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PIRATES BY FORCE 


cfa'CLAUDY 

U 

Author of 

Tell Me Why Stories About Mother Nature 
Partners of the Forest Trails stc^ 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

JOSEPH L. KRAEMER 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


Copyright 1917 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company 




PRCSS OF 

BRAUNWORTH & CO. 
BOOK manufacturers 
BROOKLYN. N. Y. 


$ 

MAY 14 1317 

©C1.A460770 


1 1 


To Billy 

My Littlest Pirate 






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PREFACE 


Oyster piracy is on the wane, and “the good old days” 
(from the standpoint of those who took oysters ille- 
gally) are fast disappearing. A vigorous enforcement 
of stringent laws has reduced to a minimum such law- 
less practises as the shanghaing of men and boys and 
forcing them to work on illicit oyster boats, at least as 
far as Chesapeake Bay is concerned. 

The author ventures to hope that no man of that fine 
water- faring race which lives upon the Eastern Shore 
will consider this story in any way as a reflection upon 
his willingness to abide by the laws of his state or find 
in the characters of Cap*n Briggs and his crew anything 
but a picture of a type which was never common and is 
now practically extinct. 

Acknowledgments are gladly tendered the editor and 
publishers of The American Boy, in which publication 
this story appeared serially in shorter form, for permis- 
sion to publish between covers, and the use of the orig- 
inal illustrations. 


C. H. Claudy. 


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CONTENTS 


_____ ^ 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I Captured 13 

II A Hard Experience ----- 54 

III Billy Peck, Tormentor - - - - 93 

IV Escape! ------- 125 

V Back Again ------- 156 

VI Alan’s Revenge • - - - - 185 

VII The Little Pocket Kodak - - - - 225 

VIII Pirate’s Gold 370 


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PIRATES BY FORCE 


1 










PIRATES BY FORCE 


CHAPTER I 
captured! 

A s HE jumped lightly from the rickety 
Eastern Shore buggy which had brought 
him from town to the survey camp, Alan 
McIntosh had no idea what a contrast he 
made with his surroundings. Carefully 
dressed, immaculately clean, and carrying 
a new brown leather bag in gloved hands, 
he fitted illy in with the discolored and 
sagging tents, the several ragged and dirty 
lads at work among them, the muddy brown 
of the uncovered shore showing at low tide. 

A strongly built boy seemed to be direct- 
ing the work of the others; though appar- 
ently in command he was no less unkempt 
13 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


than were they. A soiled red bandanna 
about his neck spoke vaguely to Alan of 
western freedom and rough living. There 
was none of that lightness of speech, the 
gayness of cheery call, which he was wont 
to associate with the idea of a camp. It 
was with something of secret dismay that 
the slender lad with the wide brown eyes 
looked upon what he expected was to be his 
home for months to come. 

He stood uncertainly by his leather bag, 
new and shiny, and wondered if, after all, 
he had chosen a good way to spend spare 
time in getting engineering experience. 
Coast surveying had sounded interesting, 
the fact that a coast survey party lived in 
a camp and spent most of its time in boats 
had been alluring, and he had to do some- 
thing with his time before prep, school 
began. At the time he had thought Captain 
Stamford's offer of a rodman’s job very at- 
tractive, but the smell of the salt marsh 
14 


CAPTURED 


mixed with frying bacon and wood smoke 
was not especially agreeable, and the long 
drive from the little town with a dispirited 
native and the somewhat rough voice of the 
well-grown, red-faced boy apparently in 
charge did not speak very loudly of comfort 
and the “fun” which he had unconsciously 
expected. 

The raggedly dressed person — Alan was 
not quite sure whether he was a young man 
or an old boy — looked up suddenly and saw 
him. 

Alan read first wonder, then disapproval 
and finally contempt in the glance, and re- 
sented all three. Who was he, anyway, to 
look at him like that? Where was Captain 
Stamford? 

“Well,” called the larger lad, “and who 
may you be — what you want?” 

“I am Mr. McIntosh,” said Alan somewhat 
primly. It was better to make a good im- 
pression on the natives at the start, he 
15 


PIRATES BY FORCE 

thought. ‘T am looking for Captain Stam- 
ford.” 

“Mr. McIntosh! — Are you McIntosh? 
Holy cats!” cried the lad, looking at him. 
Then, as if remembering himself — “Captain 
is in town. I^m in charge. You ready to go 
to work?” The words were civil but the 
glance at the derby hat, the gloved hands, 
the new bag, was scornful. 

“I am ready as soon as I change my 
clothes,” answered Alan. “I wanted to — ” 

“Oh, your clothes! To be sure.” The 
speech was ironical. “Bring your kit over 
here. You can change in that tent until I 
get yours up. And hustle — ^will you? WeVe 
got to get off by noon. My name^s Ham- 
mond. Fred Hammond.” 

He did not offer his hand, and he took no 
apparent interest in Alan, as he picked up 
his bag and walked toward the tent indi- 
cated. But Alan, if somewhat at a loss as 
to the wisdom of his choice of a vacation, 
16 


CAPTURED 


was no shirk, nor did he object to work. 
There was work to be done, it was work he 
had come to do, and the fact that an illy 
dressed “country lout,” as Alan named him 
to* himself, was in charge and that Captain 
Stamford, whom he had met and liked, was 
apparently away, was merely incidental. 

He took his time in the stuffy little tent, 
and unpacked his simple outfit and dressed 
carefully. 

Alan was very well satisfied with his selec- 
tions. He had gone with his father to an out- 
fitter and there had been quite an argument 
as to what he should buy. . 

“You know, son,” his father had said, “you 
don’t really need to buy an3rthing. I’ve a 
lot of old duds that have seen good service 
but still have wear left in them. You could 
wear them and be far less conspicuous among 
your comrades-to-be than if you buy new 
clothes.” 

It was an embarrassing remark to Alan. 

17 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


He did not want to hurt his father’s feelings, 
but — ^he did not want to wear his father’s 
clothes. He hardly knew why — whether a 
feeling of pride or a certain nicety in regard 
to his apparel. At school all the boys were 
very careful how they dressed and the idea 
of wearing another’s clothes, no matter for 
what purpose, was repugnant. Alan’s fa- 
ther, seeing his son was not favorably im- 
pressed with his suggestion, said no more 
and allowed the boy to have his way about 
what he should purchase. 

When he finally stood forth in clean 
khaki, clean leggings, blue flannel shirt, a 
necktie carefully knotted in place, he was 
the very picture of a stage engineer. 

Hammond took a good look and his rather 
large mouth curled. “Pretty nice outfit!” 
he said slowly. “But I wonder why you 
changed! Pity we can’t wash the earth so 
it will stay clean. Boyden, Marlow, Gedder, 
Finch — come over here and meet McIntosh. 

18 


CAPTURED 


Don’t be all day — ^that lumber has got to go 
on the Rudy quick. McIntosh, this is the 
bunch!” 

He turned his back and attacked a lumber 
pile. Alan shook hands, smiling, with the 
brown-faced, dirty-clothed boys who came 
forward. Boy den was short and stout with 
a merry smile. Marlow, like Hammond, was 
heavy set and strong, but he had a squeaky 
voice. Gedder and Finch were about Alan’s 
size ; both spoke pleasantly, but hurriedly, as 
if anxious to get back to work. Alan chatted 
for a few moments, but only a few. 

‘‘That’ll do!” called Hammond suddenly. 
“No reception day, you know. Back on the 
job. Marlow, you go with Gedder. I’ll start 
Mac breaking in his store clothes.” 

Alan flushed. It was a personal idiosyn- 
crasy of his to object strenuously to Mac 
as a nickname. And in Gridley, his school, 
the boys were neither so abrupt nor so criti- 
cal of clothing. 


19 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“If you don’t mind,” he said evenly and 
quietly, “my name is Alan, or McIntosh, as 
you choose. I don’t like Mac as a nick- 
name.” 

He might have spoken to a wall. “Get hold 
of those scantlings and help load the Rudy T 
was the brief command. With the words, 
Hammond stepped to a pile of lumber, picked 
up two “two by four” pieces, each sixteen 
feet long, and shouldered them. He carried 
them to the little wharf at the water’s edge, 
where he piled them. 

This wharf projected into the water about 
twenty feet. It was built of simple boards 
supported on poles driven into the mud. It 
was very unpretentious and to Alan’s criti- 
cal eyes a little rickety. Indeed, he started 
to ask his companion if it was strong enough 
to stand the weight they were piling on it 
but decided that what might be taken as a 
criticism was better left unsaid. 

It was a pretty scene and under other cir- 
20 


CAPTURED 


cumstances Alan would have admired it to 
the full. The water, although muddy near 
the shore, was a deep bluish green farther 
out and dancing with little wavelets which 
seemed ready to break into white-caps. The 
little arm of Chesapeake Bay at the head of 
which the camp was located was dotted here 
and there with boats, some with sails, some 
without, and Alan guessed that the tiny fig- 
ures which he could see on them, silhouetted 
against the sky, were fishermen. Looking 
down toward the mouth of the arm he could 
see white water, and beyond a low gray line 
which he took to be an island or a jutting 
headland across the bay. 

Tied fore and aft beside the wharf was 
an open gasoline launch, about forty feet 
long, dirty, with scratched paint and defaced 
woodwork. Alan could see more lumber 
lying in her open cockpit. 

‘‘What’s it for?” he asked, stepping in his 
turn to the lumber pile, and shouldering two 
21 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


of the sticks with difficulty — ^for Alan was 
slight and wiry, rather than muscular. But 
he would have died in his tracks rather than 
move off without the two scantlings, after 
seeing Hammond carry two. 

‘^Lumber for signal building,” was the 
immediate answer. *T thought you knew 
surveying?” 

‘T've studied something of the mathematics 
of it,” answered Alan, 'Triangulation and the 
three point problem and all that. I never 
used an instrument.” 

"Oh! Well, this lumber is used to build 
the signals on which we sight. Old triangu- 
lation signals are often destroyed by storms, 
and we have to replace them. ThaPs what 
we are going to do — ^Hill Point, Guthrie Bay 
and Pug’s Neck to-day. Hustle ! Can’t you 
carry more than two?” 

"I carried what you did!” retorted Alan, 
nettled. 

Hammond smiled. "Did you, indeed ! 

22 


CAPTURED 


Well, do it again!” Hammond approached 
the pile, picked up four scantlings, which 
he balanced with difficulty on his shoulders 
and under which he staggered to the wharf. 
It took him twice as long as before and was 
evidently very difficult, and when he finally 
dropped them, it was to stop and examine 
a hand in which a splinter had lodged. Alan 
followed him, not with four, which he knew 
were beyond his strength, but with two 
scantlings as before. When he put them 
down, he silently proffered his pen-knife. 

^*Can you get it out, or shall I?” he asked 
quietly. 

‘‘Don’t want it. It isn’t sterile. Keep on 
the job. I’ll be back soon!” The tone was 
curt and ungracious, and Alan bit his lip. 

‘T don’t like that chap!” he said to him- 
self. “Too much of the martinet! ‘Not 
sterile,’ indeed! I wonder if the splinter 
is ‘sterile’?” 

He plodded patiently back and forth from 
23 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


pile to wharf, carrying his two scantlings 
at each trip. It was a wasteful expenditure 
of strength, and Alan, trained to use his 
. head, soon saw that the work could be done 
twice as quickly with a wheelbarrow he saw 
near the wharf. ^Tt could carry a dozen, 
easily — one to wheel and one to steady !” he 
thought. 

When Hammond came back, his hand 
wrapped in a bandage, Alan spoke his 
thought. 

‘Tf you’ll steady the load. I’ll wheel the 
barrow,’^ he said. ‘We can carry a dozen 
easy, in a trip. Save time, hands and 
clothes.” 

It was an unfortunate ending, and Alan 
realized it just too late. 

‘T forgot your new clothes !” derided Fred, 
mockingly. “Mine are not in need of sav- 
ing! I’m sorry your hands are tender, but 
you’ll have to get used to it. This is no pink 
tea party 1” 


24 


CAPTURED 


And he went back to Shouldering scant- 
lings. 

But while he did the work laid out for him 
without further protest aloud, inside Alan 
seethed. 

‘Tt's perfect nonsense!” he stormed to 
himself, ‘‘doing an easy job the wrong way 
and making it five times as hard! If that 
lout had any sense he'd know what I sug- 
gested is the proper method. I don't under- 
stand why Captain Stamford leaves the work 
in charge of a chap like this. Why, I don't 
know much about surveying, but I've got 
more sense in a minute than he ever had. 
If he'd pile this lumber the way I suggested, 
we'd get through in a third the time, and 
save a lot of trouble, not to mention skin! 
And it's not because my hands are tender, 
either! He got a splinter in one of his and 
he'd save his own hands if he'd be sensible. 
All I hope is, that when Captain Stamford 
comes back I get a chance to show him that 
25 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


even people from the city with ‘store clothes’ 
have some sense, — ^which is a lot more than 
he has!” 

However, even a job done the wrong way 
comes to an end some time. The lumber 
was finally loaded on the wharf, and then, 
with Alan feeding them into the boat, care- 
fully piled in the cockpit. Alan admitted to 
himself, grudgingly, that Hammond could 
work, if he was gruff and rude. His judg- 
ment was that of seventeen years. It was 
based wholly on association with lads of 
refinement, education and good upbringing 
whom he knew at home and at Gridley. So 
Alan jumped to the conclusion that because 
Fred Hammond was apparently hostile to 
clean clothes, and a new member of the party, 
therefore Fred Hammond had no good points 
worth mentioning. But Hammond took the 
cockpit for the loading without question and 
did the larger, harder share of the work 
without a word — did it quickly and skilfully, 
26 


CAPTURED 


and, apparently, without thought of the 
bandaged hand which now showed a dull red 
where the deep splinter wound had bled 
slightly. 

The last scantling was just sliding into 
place when the unmusical note of a cow's 
horn sounded on the air. Alan looked up 
wonderingly. 

‘'Chuck !" said Fred briefly. 

Alan had no idea what “chuck” was. But 
the sight of the other lads, dropping their 
tasks of tent straightening, dunnage arrange- 
ment, fire-wood chopping, table building, and 
the other matters of camp work on which 
they were engaged, and the sudden calls of 
raillery and good-natured joking, advised 
him that “chuck” meant at least a cessation 
of work. He straightened his back, wearily. 
Lumber loading is hard work, especially to 
unaccustomed muscles. 

“Wash up behind the tents!” Fred called 
tersely. Obeying, Alan found the rest of the 
27 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


boys of the party engaged in tin-pan ablu- 
tions and in cheerful talk, and learned that 
'‘chuck” was the noonday meal. 

Alan was glad to sit down on a log and 
eat. It was simple fare, but he welcomed it 
— ^tossing lumber is hungry labor. Pete, the 
negro cook, served beans and boiled ham, 
huge chunks of bread, good country butter, 
a brown fluid which he called coffee, and 
there was plenty of sweet milk. A dish of 
stewed prunes for dessert finished a plenti- 
ful if not sumptuous meal. 

"Y9U can’t loaf but fifteen minutes more. 
We’ve got to get the lumber over to Pug’s 
Neck,” commanded Fred. “Make the most 
of the loaf!” 

“Is he always like that?” asked Alan of 
Gedder, as Fred strode away. 

“Who — Fred? Oh, he doesn’t mean any- 
thing! He was with Captain Stamford last 
year and knows the ropes. The captain 
leaves him in charge when he has to go to 
28 


CAPTURED 


town. I thought he was cross as a bear the 
first day, but he isn't — it’s just his way.” 

wonder if we get to swim to-day!” 
Jimmy Boyden, roly-poly and merry, spoke 
through a mouthful of prunes. 

‘Tf I could swim like you do. Fatty, I 
wouldn’t want any lessons!” laughed Mar- 
low in answer. “Do you swim?” to Alan. 

“I can swim a little — not for a long dis- 
tance.’^ Alan’s answer was matter-of-fact. 
“I love to swim. Is there any chance?” 

“Fred Hammond can’t swim at all. He’s 
trying to learn, and Captain Stamford lets 
us go in, when there isn’t too much to do. 
Pity you missed these last four days — we’ve 
had a raft of fun.” Finch wiped his fingers 
on his trousers, which seemed none the worse 
for it. “But I doubt if we have any time 
to-day.” 

“Why can’t you learn to swim a long dis- 
tance? I would, if I could swim at all. But 
the water scares me. You are not scared, 
29 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


are you?” Boys are frankly curious, and 
Marlow’s question was without oifense. 

suppose it’s because I am thin!” And 
Alan grinned. ‘1 get a cramp if I try to 
swim very long. It’s no fun — cramp. So I 
have never tried long swims. I suppose 
that’s why I don’t swim better. But I am 
not scared. I wish I — ” 

‘‘You fellows think fifteen minutes means 
all night ?” Fred Hammond called impa- 
tiently. “Mac, get a hustle on you 1” 

“Now, why does he single me out?” in- 
quired Alan, but discreetly to himself. “And 
—I told him I didn’t like ‘Mac.’ ” 

He rose slowly and walked down to the 
water’s edge. “Well, ‘Ham,’ here I am,” he 
drawled. “The hustle is on me, as you so 
politely requested!” 

He half smiled, but his color changed at 
the answer. For Fred Hammond drew 
heavy brows together and turned fiercely. 
“I don’t suppose you know any better, be- 
30 


CAPTURED 


cause you are citified. But to call a fellow 
‘Ham’ in this “^country is to get in trouble. 
Better keep your tongue between your 
teeth.” 

For a moment, Alan, too surprised to 
speak, didn’t answer. Then he strode, not 
sauntered, over to Fred Hammond and laid 
a none too gentle hand on his arm. Though 
smaller and slighter, he was not the kind to 
shrink from a personal encounter if it was 
necessary. 

“If you don’t like the first syllable of your 
last name as a handle, see that you don’t 
use the first syllable of my last name to me. 
I’ve had just about as much of your over- 
bearing talk as I can swallow. Cut it out!” 

Hammond looked the speaker up and down, 
and then his lips curled in a laugh. “City 
bantam !” he observed. “Save that pepper 
for this afternoon. You fellows ready?” he 
called. “Tumble in, then. Crank her up, 
Gedder.” r 

31 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Alan bit his lip, already ashamed of his 
temper. That Hammond could keep his 
under truculent provocation made him the 
more incensed at himself. He was conscious 
of a feeling of bewilderment at his reception, 
at Fred Hammond, who drove himself as 
fiercely as he drove the others, at Captain 
Stamford, for leaving the work in charge of 
one of the boys, and at himself, popular at 
Gridley, for not being able to get the re- 
spectful attention and admiring regard he 
was accustomed to receive from his mates. 

He wondered more, during the afternoon, 
but at Hammond's efficiency, rather than at 
his brusk manner. For there was no deny- 
ing that Hammond knew what he was do- 
ing. During the crossing of the little arm 
of the bay to the headland he understood to 
be named Pug's Neck, Alan enjoyed himself. 
The little launch chug-chugged along 
merrily, and the boys sprawled about, crack- 
ing jokes, talking and laughing. Hammond, 
32 


CAPTURED 


steering, was teo busy to throw in any sar- 
castic remarks and — Alan smiled to him- 
self as he admitted it as a cause for pleasure 
— ^the neat khaki clothes he had been so proud 
of looked less like a tailor’s model and more 
like a working dress since the lumber pitch- 
ing of the morning. 

What’s the boat for, behind?” he asked 
Jimmy Boyden, pointing to the little dory 
at the end of the short line over the stem. 

‘‘Land lumber in. Too shallow to run the 
Rudy up to the shore. But the water’s warm, 
anyway.” 

Alan did not understand what the temper- 
ature of the water had to do with it until 
later. Arrived opposite Pug’s Neck, Ham- 
mond stopped, anchored and prepared to go 
ashore. 

“Boyden, haul in the tender. Mac — into 
it,” with a grin. “You and Gedder get over 
and help load. Marlow, I guess you better 
step out and hold.” 


U 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Alan followed Boyden over the lumber pile 
to the stern and together the two boys slipped 
overside and into the little boat. Not know- 
ing what else was expected of him, Alan sat 
down on a thwart, while Boyden untied the 
tow rope. 

‘‘Well?’’ came cuttingly from the launch. 
“Think that’s a reserved seat? Get over, 
can’t you?” 

“Get over — ?” Alan was honestly puzzled. 

“Overboard!” whispered Jimmy Boyden. 
“In the water.” 

Alan reached down and began to remove 
his shoes and leggings. 

“Jimmy, ymh him over! I can’t wait all 
day!” called Hammond impatiently. 

“Don’t bother with your shoes, man — like 
this!” 

Jimmy Boyden jumped overboard. The 
water came well up over his knees. 

“Yes — like that. Or are you afraid of wet 
feet?’' 


34 


CAPTURED 


“Pd rather have them than cold ones — 
that stay in the boat!” retorted Alan, jump- 
ing over in his turn. 

“Oh, indeed! Well, if you think you’d 
rather have this job, come right in and try!” 
invited Hammond. Indeed, as Alan soon 
saw, it was much harder to toss the lumber 
out than it was to take it and stow it. Again 
he felt ashamed of the lack of knowledge 
that led him to begin to remove his shoes 
and stockings before going overboard. The 
others evidently thought nothing of a foot 
wetting — why should he? 

And, as events soon proved, it was nothing 
to think about. The lumber safely on shore, 
they worked like beavers, erecting a signal — 
a triangular structure of scantling, sawed 
roughly on the spot, hammered together with 
spikes and erected with a plumb line to rise 
perpendicularly over a carefully set stake 
Hammond told him was “on the mark.” 

Alan found signal building looked easier 
35 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


than it really was. The signal they wer® 
erecting was to be about thirty-five feet high. 
Its base was formed of a triangle of heavy 
two-by-fours which, when once erected over 
the central spot which Hammond marked 
out, had to be securely braced with cross- 
pieces. This accomplished, two boys climbed 
to the top and held scantlings, passed up to 
them, in an upright position while others 
nailed them fast with heavy sledge ham- 
mers. Alan had several thoughts as to ways 
in which the job could be done more easily 
and with less expenditure of effort, but re- 
membering his experience when he sug- 
gested the use of the wheelbarrow to carry 
scantlings, decided to hold his peace. 

‘'But he's mighty fussy,” Alan said to 
himself. “What difference does it make 
whether this thing stands exactly level or 
not?” This was in reference to certain 
activities with a line with a weight attached. 

Later, however, Alan had cause to be 
36 


CAPTURED 


thankful that he had not given utterance to 
this thought. Alan found that there was a 
reason why the signal, even if roughly built, 
had to stand exactly level and exactly over 
the mark. He conquered his growing dis- 
like for Hammond enough to ask him why it 
was important. To his surprise, the answer 
was civil and full. 

“The ‘sheet’ on which we draw from sights 
on the rods is marked with the position of 
the triangulation signals. We sight on these 
signals through the instrument — it’s called 
an alidade. If the signal in nature is out of 
position from the one which was here when 
the sheet was first plotted, the map work is 
inaccurate. Care here means saving of time 
and promotion of accuracy.” 

“I see,” said Alan slowly. “But what 
makes you think this signal is exactly where 
it ought to be?” 

“I uncovered the buried ‘mark’ in a glass 
bottle, two feet down. Tell you more later. 

37 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Get that ax, now, and drive some more stay 
pegs — I'm afraid of the wind.” 

Alan found himself almost dry by the time 
the signal was built. It was then too late to 
build another, and he admitted, again grudg- 
ingly but with the honesty which was a part 
of his nature, that if Hammond had not 
forced the pace during the morning the sig- 
nal could not have been completed by even- 
ing. 

But that same forcing of the pace Alan 

r' 

found had taken all the energy he had to 
spare. When he crawled into the launch for 
the homeward trip he was frankly tired and 
he lay back against the combing, stretching 
his legs out over the rough lockers, with no 
attempt to conceal it. 

he wants to laugh, let him laugh,” he 
said to himself. ‘T can't help being tired 
and I worked as hard as any one.” But the 
incomprehensible boy at the steering wheel 
did not laugh, nor did any of the others. 

38 


CAPTURED 


‘Tired, McIntosh?” asked Gedder, smiling, 
as he sat down beside him. 

‘T sure am,” answered Alan frankly. ‘T 
suppose it’s because I’m new, but this seems 
like a big day’s work to me.” 

“Well, of course,” put in Finch, “you 
won’t feel it so much after you’ve been at it 
for a while, but Fred didn’t let us loaf any 
on the job. Not that he should — those 
signals have got to be done if we’re going to 
get to work on the sheet anywhere in the 
near future.” 

“That’s whVt I’m anxious to see,” re- 
sponded Alan. “I’ve read all about it in 
books and tried to study it out for myself but 
I haven’t very much of an idea as to how you 
work.” 

“Well, ask Fred, there,” said Gedder. “He 
knows all about it. I’ve seen it done but I 
don’t begin to know as much about it as he 
does.” 

Alan was in a quandary. He didn’t like to 
39 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


ask Fred Hammond for any further infor- 
mation and yet he felt that to remain silent 
after this suggestion would be too pointed. 
Rather slowly he rose and moved up near the 
bow. 

^‘Are you too tried to tell me something 
about how an alidade party goes to work?’* 
he asked. 

Fred turned from the wheel and looked at 
him a moment. 

‘‘Not a bit,” he answered. “We use what 
is known as a plane table. It is exactly what 
the name implies, a small table of wood 
mounted on a tripod and provided with level- 
ing screws so that it may be made absolutely 
plane or level. On this the sheet of paper on 
which we work — and which has the triangu- 
lation marks already placed upon it — ^is 
clamped with metal clips. On top of the 
sheet we put the alidade, which is a telescope 
with measuring lines in the eye-piece and a 
long slender steel ruler for a foot. Two of 
40 


CAPTURED 


th« boys carry rods, called telemeter rods, 
which are divided into spaces by red and 
white marks. When you look through the 
alidade at one of these rods the number of 
spaces on the rods you can see between the 
crosshairs in the telescope is an indication 
of the distance the rod is from you. Suppose 
I look through the alidade and find that the 
rod is forty-two meters away. I take a pair 
of dividers and find forty-two on a reduced 
metal scale. Then I mark a line that length 
along the edge of the alidade, on the sheet of 
paper. As the alidade sights in the direction 
which the rod was from where I am, I have 
the first step toward an exact copy of nature 
— ^the topography I am to survey. The work 
is useless unless it is accurate, so it is neces- 
sary to have the signals accurately erected 
on the mark from which the original trian- 
gulation was put on the sheet. Of course 
there's a lot more to it. That's just the out- 
line. You'll understand it better when wq 
41 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


get out in the field, and if Captain Stamford 
is willing you can work at all the various 
stations, first as a rodman and later with 
the alidade/' 

^Thank you," answered Alan, somewhat 
bewildered and a little in awe of so much 
information, pouring so readily from one 
whom he had grown to look upon as almost 
too silent. 

He followed the none too lucid explanation 
clearly enough, with memory of his books 
before him, but he saw that surveying on a 
blackboard in a schoolroom was one thing 
and doing it accurately in the field with in- 
struments was quite another. Unwillingly 
enough, his respect for Fred Hammond rose. 

When they returned to the camp the sun 
was near the horizon, there was an odor of 
com bread in the air, and Alan suddenly 
found himself hungrier than he knew he 
could be. Captain Stamford, tall and spare, 
was waiting at the little wharf as the Rudy 
42 


CAPTURED 


chugged her way to a stop. He greeted each 
lad by name, listened to a brief report from 
Hammond and then welcomed Alan. 

“Glad to see you!” he said heartily. “I 
told Fred you’d be here to-day. Sorry you 
missed the first four days. Never mind. 
How do you like it? I told Fred to start 
you right in.” 

“I had a very interesting day,” answered 
Alan truthfully, if with mental reservations. 

“Did you leave your father well?” 

“Yes, sir. I only went as far as St. Louis 
with him. I expect he’s about sailing for 
the Philippines now. He sent his regards to 
you, sir. He told me to tell you to take care 
of me!” Alan smiled as if it was a little 
joke. 

“We’ll do that !” agreed Captain Stamford. 
“And — there’s the chuck horn !” 

Supper was as welcome as the noonday 
meal had been. There were stewed rice and 
maple sirup, which Fred Hammond said was 
43 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


made of sugar and water, and extremely 
tough beefsteak, boiled potatoes and tea. 
Alan, liking the latter, passed his tin cup 
for a second helping. 

“Of course you can have it if you want 
it!” cried Fred Hammond, “But you are 
foolish! It’s like lye, and that beefsteak is 
cooked to leather-like toughness now I” 

Alan paused, hesitating. What had the 
tea to do with the beefsteak? 

Captain Stamford laughed. 

“It’s his education — ^he can’t help it!” he 
smiled at Alan. “Fred is going to be a doc- 
tor. Next year will be your third, won’t it? 
I thought so. Fred farms during the spring 
and early summer, surveys with me during 
the late summer and fall and then squanders 
what he earns in medical books and tuition. 
So we all have to eat and drink by the latest 
medical theories. Just the same, Fred, 1 
am going to have another cup of that tea 
whether it double cooks the steak or not I” 

44 


CAPTURED 


that was what his talk of 'sterile' 
meant!” thought Alan to himself. "Poor 
country boy — earn money — to be a doctor — 
little knowledge — very conceited !” This 
line of thought made Alan feel quite im- 
portant and grown up. He was to be an 
engineer, and fallow in the footsteps of his 
^father. Perhaps he, too, would command a 
survey party some time. If he did, he 
wouldn't leave any self-important country- 
bred bumpkins like Fred Hammond in 
charge ! 

Full of such thoughts, Alan welcomed the 
opportunity Captain Stamford, who was 
known for his success with "boy parties,” 
soon made for a little private talk with him 
about his work, and what part he should 
take in it. Alan liked Captain Stamford. 
He believed Captain Stamford, who knew his 
father, could easily see the difference be- 
tween a gently reared and expensively 
schooled boy such as he was, and a boy like 
45 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Hammond. Undoubtedly Hammond knew 
about the survey work and was a good 
worker, but he was very uncouth about it. 

Unwisely enough, Alan voiced, in a gentle- 
manly way, something of this thought. 

‘"Yes,” he answered in reply to a question. 
“We worked hard. Hammond kept us hard 
at it His methods are — well, shall I say 
abrupt? I am glad you are back,^ir!” 

“Why, whats the matter with Fred? I 
have left him with jobs to do scores of times 
— ^he always does them.” 

“Oh — ^nothing — nothing — I don’t perhaps 
understand his gaucherieJ* 

“Apparently not!** agreed Captain Stam- 
ford dryly. And nothing more was said. 

But something was done. Alan didn’t 
quite understand how it happened, but the 
work, with Captain Stamford on the boat, 
seemed to be largely divided into several par- 
ties. Two were sent to look for a signal, 
two were sent to reconnoiter for good rod 
46 


CAPTURED 


stations on prominent elevations, two, always 
two, went back to camp for forgotten imple- 
ments. 

And whenever there was a pair to be made 
up, it was Hammond and McIntosh. 

‘Tred, take Alan and go show him how 
to dig for a bottle,” Captain Stamford would 
say, or, ‘'Hammond, “take McIntosh and go 
straighten up Pug’s Neck — ^she’s leaning.” 
Or, perhaps it would be, "I’m going to let 
Gedder run the alidade and plane table to- 
day — Hammond, you show McIntosh about 
rod work.” 

So it was that the two lads, with a strong 
feeling of mutual dislike and distrust of each 
other — one thinking the other tender, citi- 
fied, over-civilized, perhaps snobbish, the 
other believing his companion a rustic lout, 
unmannered, dogmatic and self-important 
with a little brief authority, were frequently 
thrown together. Just how much of this was 
chance and how much a desire on Captain 
47 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Stamford^s part to have them know each 
other better and appreciate more the good 
points each possessed, was a matter of pri- 
vate wonder to them both — ^for neither boy 
was stupid. But both were headstrong and 
though they worked together placidly enough 
and grew to have some measure of respect 
for each other’s ability as workmen — ^indeed, 
Alan had admitted from the first that Fred 
could work — neither progressed toward a 
better understanding. 

Indeed, as the long days passed, and the 
little party settled down into the routine of 
setting up the plane table, sending off the 
rodmen, sighting through the alidade, meas- 
uring and plotting the complicated coast line 
upon the huge sheet of tough fine paper 
which was the field map, the tension between 
the two increased rather than diminished. 

Their expeditions were usually silent ones. 
But one day at the last of August, about two 
weeks after Alan’s joining the party, Alan 
48 


CAPTURED 


tired of the daily silence. They were together 
in the little tender. The launch, Rudy, was 
ten miles away. They had been left to 
straighten Barrow Point signal, then to row 
over to an island and clear away some 
branches which interfered with a clear view 
of a tall tree used as a natural signal. The 
Rudy was to pick them up on her return trip 
up the bay. They were in a neck, or hook 
of the bay, and, except for a sloop lying off 
in the center of the reach of water, were 
alone. 

“Don't talk so much!” said Alan at last, 
exasperated at Fred's continual silence. “You 
deafen me.'' 

Fred turned solemn eyes on the speaker. 
He answered the thought, not the words. 

“I have nothing to say that I think will 
interest — ^you.'' 

“Why not?” inquired Alan quietly. “I am 
interested in all sorts of — curious things.” 

“Meaning me?” 


49 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


'*Are you curious?” countered Alan. 

*T sometimes think I must be a curiosity 
to you,” retorted Fred. ^‘Unhappily, you and 
your kind are not curiosities to me.” 

‘‘What do you mean, exactly, by ‘me and 
my kind’?” 

Alan no longer smiled. But he was glad, 
if there was to be plain speaking, to have it 
over. He was a gregarious boy and disliked 
strained relations. 

“Your kind is the kind that the city pro- 
duces. You are over-cultivated. You think 
yourself superior. You think life is made 
up of clothes. You progress by favoritism 
and not by merit, and you have no hesitancy 
in taking any job for fun, which another 
might use for necessity. You despise that 
which is natural, because it isn’t cultivated, 
as you understand the word.” 

The words were passionless. But Alan 
flushed with anger. 

“It’s a wonder you didn’t add ‘shirk’ and 
50 


CAPTURED 


‘cad* to your category/* he said heatedly. 
“Now suppose you listen, as this is an ex- 
perience meeting. I despise things which 
are natural when they are disagreeable or 
disgusting. Snakes, dirt, and country boors 
with no manners and less appreciation of 
honest effort, for instance. I detest people 
whom a little brief authority makes into 
martinets. You are studying to be a doctor. 
Doctors have to have wide sympathy, and 
broad-mindedness. You are narrow, bigoted 
and self-righteous. As to the job, I think — ** 
“Never mind the job,** interrupted Fred 
viciously. “Confine your strictures to me!** 
“Thank you,** responded Alan politely but 
with his voice cold as steel. “I will confine 
my remarks to exactly what I choose to talk 
about and nothing less. As to the job, as I 
started to say, I think that you are all to- 
gether too self-important. 1*11 agree that 
you know something about surveying, which 
Captain Stamford has taught you, but that 
51 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


doesn’t make you any survey engineer! The 
way you boss things around anybody would 
think that you were captain of this party 
and that Captain Stamford had nothing to 
do with it! Instead of making things com- 
fortable for those who are so unfortunate as 
to be your helpers you try to make them un- 
happy. Instead of trying to — ” 

‘‘Hey, you!” came a hail from close by. 
So intent on their quarrel in the boat had 
the boys been that both jumped, startled 
at the call. Neither had any idea that any 
one was within hearing distance. Looking 
hurriedly about, they discovered a clumsy 
flat-bottomed rowboat in which were three 
men, one but half grown. All were roughly 
dressed, and appeared to be country people, 
in the hasty glance Alan gave them. Rugged 
lined faces, browned skins and wide straw 
hats contributed to the impression. 

“Hey, you!” came the hail again. “Can 
you swim?” 


52 


CAPTURED 


Before he thought why he answered at 
all, Alan had spoken. *T can, just a little. 
He can’t — ” pointing to Hammond. 

The men exchanged glances. 

The one who was rowing skilfully laid 
the flat-bottomed boat alongside the dory. 
Then the man who had hailed, standing up 
suddenly, jumped into the dory. 

“Here, you! What do you want? Get 
out — ” Hammond was interrupted. 

“We want you boys!” said the intruder. 
“Will you come quietly, or shall we — ?” A 
gesture flnished the sentence. Alan saw with 
dismay that he carried a rope in his hands. 

To Alan’s intense surprise, and feeling as 
if the bottom had dropped from his world, 
he heard Hammond — Hammond the pug- 
nacious, Hammond the independent, Ham- 
mond the martinet, answer respectfully, al- 
most abjectly. 

“You needn’t do that. We will come 


quietly.” 


53 


CHAPTER II 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 

4(TATHY — ^why — see here! I don't intend 
W to stand for this, I — " 

‘‘Oh, shut up ! There's no use kicking !" 

Fred's answer to Alan's amazed and in- 
dignant speech was not so rough in tone as 
in words. Alan detected anxiety under 
cover of the command. As if to prevent his 
speaking further, Fred turned to the eldest 
of the three men. 

“You won't take the boat, of course,” he 
said, “it's government property. Are we to 
get in with you?” 

“Say, young feller, you seem to know 
pretty well what we are going to do. You 
aren't in the navy?” 

There was evident anxiety for an affirma- 
54 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


tive answer. This, too, was puzzling to 
Alan. 

‘'We are not!” was Fred's emphatic 
answer. “That's a survey boat and we be- 
long to a survey party. Of course I know 
what you want. I have seen oyster boats 
before,” pointing to the sloop not far away. 

“Well, you know there isn't any use kickin’, 
then. We’re short-handed. Climb over.” 

But Alan could stand it no longer. Hot- 
headed and courageous, there was something 
in Fred Hammond's calm acceptance of 
these high-handed proceedings which he 
couldn't understand, and which added to his 
indignation. 

“I won't!” he cried. “I don't know what 
you men want, but as far as I'm con- 
cerned — •” He gave a spring to the thwart 
and would have been over in another minute. 
But one of the men reached for him with a 
boat-hook, caught it in his trousers, tripped 
him neatly and Alan crashed to the bottom, 
55 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


stunned, his head bruised, wildly angry, yet 
bewildered. 

One of the men, little more than a boy 
himself, immediately sat upon him and held 
him down. ‘‘Now you be quiet I” he said 
roughly. “Or I’ll — ” a rough push on the 
prostrate body emphasized the words. The 
others dragged the boats alongside again, 
and transferred the unwilling and kicking 
victim of what Alan termed a “high-handed 
outrage” to their own roughly built boat. 

For Alan declined to go passively. He 
struggled, kicked and fought, striking out 
with his fists, blind with rage, twisting, turn- 
ing, wriggling and causing his captors con- 
siderable trouble. Nor was his tongue silent. 
He sent his clear young voice ringing across 
the water in repeated cries of “Help ! Help !” 
and brought his teeth down savagely on a 
hairy paw laid across his mouth to silence 
him. 

Utterly bewildered and unable to under- 
56 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


stand the reason for the attempt to capture 
them, Alan nevertheless realized, even in 
that tense moment, that this was serious 
business and no mere rough joke of rude 
longshoremen. He had no hope of being able 
to overcome his several opponents, but strug- 
gled on with the animal rage which pos- 
sessed him at the personal indignities he was 
being made to suffer. 

Of course the unequal combat could not 
continue long. The men and the boy were 
silent, businesslike, and it was but a few 
minutes before one of them felled Alan again 
with a neatly executed trip ; but he was not 
long allowed to rest and wonder whether the 
constellations which fluttered around his 
head were important additions to the science 
of astronomy or not. He was picked up by 
one man and thrown over to the side of the 
boat much as if he was a sack of meal. As he 
was thrust from one captor to the other, Alan 
saw Hammond, his head bent, idly making 
57 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


marks with his knife in the gunwale of the 
little tender, and his rage grew the greater 
that in such strange circumstances Fred 
Hammond could remain so very calm and un- 
concerned. 

But he had learned from the rough fall 
and their evident lack of care as to whether 
he was hurt or not that his captors meant 
business. So he said no more, and abided 
events. There was no sign of life on the 
little cove, save the sloop, to which they 
were rapidly being rowed, and no one on 
shore to whom to call. The Rudy was ten 
miles away and not due for an hour. 

By the time the sloop was reached, Alan 
had decided it was easier to move by his own 
legs than to be hauled around. 

So he followed Fred Hammond over the 
low rail on to what was one of the dirtiest 
and most poverty-struck vessels he had ever 
imagined. Ground-in mud and silt were 
everywhere — pieces of oyster shells abound- 
58 


4 



“My name’s Cap’n Briggs!” he announced 








A HARD EXPERIENCE 


ed; there was a disagreeable odor of damp- 
ness and none too fresh oyster over every- 
thing. 

‘‘Got ’em — did ye? That’s good!” 

A short, very broad man with a square 
jaw, an unshaved stubble of red beard upon 
his leathery cheeks, a short pipe in his mouth, 
and indescribably attired in a huge over- 
coat many sizes too large for him, though 
the day was warm, looked them over care- 
fully. 

“My name’s Cap’n Briggs I” he announced. 
“Sloop Wasp, Sorry to take ye away from 
your vacation, but we’re short-handed. Now, 
you boys turn in an’ work hard and when 
the season ends, I’ll pay ye wages, fair and 
square. But if ye loaf on me — ” 

The square face screwed itself into a most 
ferocious expression and a vague wave of the 
hand seemed to indicate that a terrible ven- 
geance would be certain to happen in that 
event. 


59 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


But Alan had not yet learned that this 
was no time to talk. 

“I won’t work !” he cried hotly. ‘‘You have 
captured me during the discharge of my 
duty. I am a government servant, and this 
outrage will be punished. I demand that you 
set us ashore at once!” 

*'NavyT* cried Captain Briggs, advancing 
menacingly. “Be ye navy?'' 

“No, no !” interrupted Fred Hammond. “I 
told them we are survey boys. We have 
nothing to do with the navy. You can see 
it on the boat, U. S. C. and G. S. United 
States Coast and Geodetic Purvey.” 

“Oh! Well, I’m sorry. But it’s a good 
thing for you! We don’t like oyster navy 
people much on the WaspT 

Alan felt glad he didn’t belong to the 
oyster navy, whatever that might be. 

“Let’s see — ^ye said ye wouldn’t work? 
Now, see here, young man ! There are oyster 
captains and oyster captains. And some of 
60 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


’em would knock you down and others would 
tie ye up. Others would drop ye overboard 
on a rope until ye was ready to work. But 
there’s other ways. If ye work, ye feed, and 
if ye don’t work, ye don’t feed, and Billy 
Peck here is the lad will see to it!” 

“Right-0 !” answered the individual who 
had held Alan down, a lad of perhaps 
twenty. He was of medium height, but very 
large through the chest, and though his blue 
eyes were merry the mouth was thin-lipped 
and the chin obstinate. He had a weak 
vacillating expression when in repose, but 
was viciously efficient-looking when roused, 
and he was evidently ready for anything 
now. 

“Don’t say any more — wait!” implored 
Fred Hammond. “You don’t understand.” 

“Ye can look about till they put it ashore,” 
motioning to the little tender. “Billy’ll show 
ye where ye bunk !” 

The captain turned on hit heel and left 
61 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


them. Billy Peck disappeared somewhere 
forward, presumably to get their bunks in 
order. The other two men, whom the boys 
were speedily to learn were called Sam and 
Bart, took the little tender in tow of their 
unwieldly dory and rowed for the shore. 

“Tell me — what — ^how — ^why — ?” Alan 
turned to Fred Hammond leaning on the low 
rail at his side. His question was incoherent, 
but Hammond knew what he meant. He 
looked around cautiously before replying. 

“We are shanghaied. These are oyster 
pirates. We are lucky — oh, so lucky!” 

“Lucky!” 

“Yes, lucky. Some of them — ^most of them, 
are the very worst kind of men. I have seen 
shanghaied men when they were turned 
loose — Listen! This captain seems to be 
rather human. But he’s a lawbreaker. The 
oyster navy has evidently been after him 
hard, judging by tlje way he hoped we were 
navy boys. He’s short-handed and he has 
62 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


grabbed us. If we work, and work hard, 
we can probably get along. But watch your 
tongue — and, if you know whaPs good for 
you, do what you are told.” 

“I will not! I won’t submit. I will have 
them arrested and — ■” 

“You talk like a child! Of course you’ll 
have them arrested, if you can ! But do you 
see any policemen around ? Well, be sensible 
then. Do you care to be knocked down until 
you stay down, to be beaten with a rake 
handle until you can’t stand, merely to assert 
your independence? I don’t! It’s craft, not 
big talk, that will get us out of here. If 
you could have seen what I’ve seen — ^Alan 
McIntosh, listen to me! I’ve seen shang- 
haied men come off pirate oyster boats with 
their scalps laid open and their arms broken. 
I saw a man put ashore at Cambridge in the 
middle of the night who was blind from the 
contents of a pot of hot coffee thrown in his 
face because he refused to work for his cap- 
63 


/ 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


tors. I saw a man who had been compelled 
to work in spite of a sprained ankle until his 
leg swelled up so that he had to cut it off. I 
saw the victim of one boat who had been put 
ashore after having been half beaten to death 
and who had walked twenty miles to the 
nearest town for aid. He was insane, rav- 
ing, and stayed in an asylum for a year be- 
fore he recovered his senses. IVe seen men 
with their jaws broken, their noses mashed 
in, their eyes blackened, their faces cut, 
treated worse than the most vicious man you 
know would even treat a yellow dog! If 
you could have seen what I have seen — 
heard what I have heard — ^you’d agree that 
we are lucky when we get shanghaied on a 
boat with as decent a man as this captain 
seems to be!” 

‘T like your idea of decency !” Alan spoke 
hotly. “And Captain Stamford — ^the boys — 
your family — ^they will think we are 
drowned !” 


64 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


'‘How about your family?'' asked Fred 
sharply. 

"I have only my father — and he's at sea 
now, on his way to the Philippines. But 
won't Captain Stamford — ?" 

"Listen!" Fred Hammond looked around 
cautiously again. "You saw me whittling 
at the gunwale? I cut one word in it, in 
Morse^ 'Shanghaied,' with long cuts for 
dashes and shorts for dots. Captain Stam- 
ford reads Morse. He may see it." 

"You clever chap!" Alan's hopeful tone 
at this bit of good news was full of hearty 
admiration. He had already forgotten the 
puerile quarrel in the tender. 

Fred turned at the words. His eyes 
softened. Alan looked rather slight and 
frail for so rough an experience. Fred 
squared his shoulders. 

"We must do the best we can. But, if you 
value your skin — not to mention your bones 
r— do what you are told and— r" 

65 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“Hi! You muts come along. Your first 
floor and bath is ready.” Billy Peck ap- 
peared, beckoning. Obedient, the two forlorn 
lads trooped forward to descend two steps 
into what might be called by courtesy the 
forecastle, little more than a decked over 
part of the bow. But it was little like those 
of which Alan had read. Dark to blackness, 
smelly as everything on the Wasp was smelly, 
foul-aired with lack of ventilation, it showed 
half a dozen small bunks in which were 
tumbled a nondescript mass of bedding. 

“Good night!” exclaimed Alan impetuous- 
ly. “I canT sleep — ” 

“You wonT have a chance, until later!” 
cut in Fred, with a nudge. “Obliged to 
you!” to Billy Peck. “Which are ours?” 

“Them two,” and he pointed to the two 
farthest away from the light and air. “Old 
man and me has the front two, Sam and 
Bart comes next and you takes whaf s left. 
Ain’t they good enough?” 

66 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


His tone was belligerent. 

**We are not kicking!” answered Fred, 
briefly. “And we don't — ” 

“Hi!” came the hail from above. “All 
hands!” 

Billy Peck started for the ladder, closely 
followed by Alan and Fred. The two in the 
yawl had come back. The little tender was 
safely beached on shore, bearing, so the 
boys hoped, its message of what had hap- 
pened to them. 

Swift orders were bellowed from Captain 
Briggs' powerful throat. The two men and 
Billy Peck flew to various ropes. Alan, fol- 
lowing Fred's example, tailed on where he 
could and as quickly as he could. 

The anchor was hove short. 

Two tattered and much patched sails arose. 
The vessel paid off, the anchor was peaked, 
and with Captain Briggs at the helm, the 
Wasp showed an unexpectedly clean pair of 
heels to any who might be looking. 

67 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“Slow — awful slow!” complained Billy 
Peck to Cap"n Briggs, as if the boys were in 
China rather than right beside him. “The 
little one’s lively enough, but he don’t know 
a rope from a keel. The bigger buck catches 
on quicker, but he’s mighty citified! But 
I’ll teach ’em!” 

Alan swallowed a smile. Fred Hammond 
citified ! What must he seem like, then, was 
his thought. 

“What next, sir?” asked Fred of Cap’n 
Briggs. 

There was no answer. 

Fred waited a moment, then took a step 
nearer. “An3rthing else you want of us, just 
now?” 

A slow and contemplative eye turned upon 
the speaker. Billy Peck grinned broadly and 
moved to one side. “I’ll take her if you want 
me, Cap’n,” he said, smiling as if in anticipa- 
tion of something pleasant. But Alan noted 
something more than humor in the grimace. 

68 



Cap’n Briggs flung him away as if he had been a sack of coal 








A HARD EXPERIENCE 


The contemplative eye swept over to Billy 
Peck. 

‘‘What did you think I might want you to 
take the wheel for?” he asked, in a very mild 
tone indeed. 

“Why, so's you could 'tend to him !” point- 
ing to Fred. 

The measuring eye swept slowly to Fred 
again. Then : 

“Ever steer a boat?” 

“Yes, sir,” answered Fred. 

“Steer this one?” 

“I think so.” 

“Here!” 

Cap'n Briggs motioned to Fred to take the 
wheel. Billy Peck, Alan noticed, looked both 
disappointed and puzzled. But no sooner had 
Cap'n Briggs relinquished the wheel than he 
made a rush at Billy Peck, caught him by the 
back of his neck and the seat of his trousers 
and flung him away from him much as if he 
had been a sack of coal. Billy Peck landed 
69 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


with a thud, sitting down, and the expression 
on his face was so funny that Alan bit his lip 
to keep down the laugh that struggled with 
the consternation in his mind. What sort of 
a world was this, anyway, into which he had 
been so suddenly thrust? 

‘Thought I wanted to ’tend to him, did ye? 
Well, I didn’t! When I want any sugges- 
tions, I ask for ’em I” Cap’n Briggs shouted 
after the discomfited Billy Peck. “Them 
boys look all right to me — if they don’t get 
fresh! Don’t ye be getting fresh, young 
men! I could throw either of ye twict as 
far!” 

Alan earnestly disclaimed any intention of 
getting "fresh,” as Cap’n Briggs took the 
wheel again. Fred and Alan went forward. 
They were not molested. Indeed, Alan, argu- 
ing from the only experience he had, which 
was school life, already pictured Captain 
Briggs as a friend who would permit no 
liberties — ^his sudden treatment of Billy 
70 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


Peck seemed to Alan to mean that Captain 
Briggs felt kindly toward them. 

Alan was later unable to satisfy himself 
that his feeling in regard to Captain Briggs 
was not somewhat dictated by his antago- 
nism to Fred. Hammond seemed to him to 
be altogether too cock-sure of the character 
of these new associates and Alan had reason 
afterward to think perhaps his disbelief in 
Fred’s conclusions was caused as much by 
the early quarrel as from anything he ob- 
served in Captain Briggs’ manner. He was 
naturally of a hopeful disposition and it was 
not long before he convinced himself that 
Captain Briggs could by no possibility be so 
bad as Fred had painted him. 

“Oh, Fred, like most country people,” 
mused Alan, “is apt to make the worst rather 
than the best of things ! Of course he means 
well but it is absurd to think these men are 
thieves and murderers! Why, if they were 
going to murder us, they’d have done it long 
71 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


ago. Of course^ they did treat me pretty 
roughly, but only when I resisted.” 

Thus reasoning, Alan found some comfort 
in Captain Briggs' conduct and the hope that 
he was really more mild-mannered than he 
seemed. Meanwhile the main ambition of 
every one seemed to be to get going as fast 
as possible, and as far as possible. Anxious 
eyes scanned the bay, now opening up before 
them, as they left the cove, for other vessels. 
Once, when the smoke of a steamer showed 
and they appeared to be going to pass close 
to it, Bart approached. 

''Down ye go,” he said, pointing to the 
stairs. "I'll tell you when you can come 
up!” 

And down they went, obediently. It was 
evident they were to have no chance to speak 
a passing vessel or to throw themselves 
overboard in the hope of being immediately 
picked up. Indeed, Fred couldn’t do that, as 
he did not know how to swim. 

72 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


‘Tred, what is an oyster pirate? What 
do they .do?’’ Alan sat down on a box which 
did duty for a chair. 

‘‘Take oysters out of season, for one thing. 
For another, poach on private beds. For a 
third, just what Briggs is doing — shang- 
haing men. It saves wages and so his catch 
is worth more.” v 

“But he said he would pay us!” 

“Did he ! Well, he lied, though I wouldn’t 
care to tell him so. I know the kind of pay- 
ment he gives. Gets all he can out of you, 
then beats you into a jelly, dumps you over- 
board on a wharf and runs away!” 

“I don’t believe it ! Look how he handled 
Peck just now! He is friendly. And, sure- 
ly — we must touch somewhere, sometime! 
Then we can cut and run.” 

“Don’t count on his friendliness !” warned 
Fred. “I doubt that we touch anywhere 
where we could escape. They are ready for 
J;heir work. They have a cove or a landing 
73 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


somewhere where they can dump their catch. 
They are bound down the bay — I suspect they 
come from up Cambridge way somewhere. 
And there will be several hundred other 
sloops at work within two weeks. These 
chaps will work days on the open beds and 
poach at night on the private beds. It's 
against the law to tong for oysters at night, 
just on account of poaching. Our hope is 
the police boat.” 

‘'But — ^but how? Great Scott, Fred, we 
can*t stand for this ! I don’t want to spend 
my time as a sailor! I want — ” 

“It’s rough on you. I’ll admit!” Fred 
clipped his words, and there was something 
of the early disapproval in his voice. “But 
we’ve just got to stand it. Now, see here. I 
know these men — ^their kind, I mean, and 
you don’t. I’ve lived among them, on shore. 
I’ll do the very best I can for us both. But 
if we are to get clear, and you are to keep a 
whole skin, you better do what I tell you. 

74 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


You never saw a man struck in your life, I 
guess. That toss Cap'n Briggs gave Billy 
Peck was play! You do what you are told 
and do it quick and keep your tongue still !*' 

Alan swallowed once or twice. Denial, ex- 
postulation, indignation, rose to his lips. He 
wouldn’t stay in the Wasp, He wouldn’t 
work. He wouldn’t be shanghaied and let 
these ignorant fishers make a slave of him. 
He wouldn’t submit. But he choked back 
the words. His common sense told him Fred 
was right. It was an effort, but he con- 
quered himself. Half fearfully, he put out 
his hand, even with a mental reservation as 
to Captain Briggs. 

“All — all right,” he said. “You are cap- 
tain. I’ll obey. And — I’m sorry.” 

Fred shook hands, but there was no 
warmth in the grasp. He understood that 
Alan referred to the quarrel. “That’s all 
right,” he said gruffly. “Wish they’d let us 
out of here. It’s stuffy.” 

75 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


It was not difficult to find out why. Alan 
investigated the forecastle much as a home- 
less cat might gingerly investigate the new 
garret in which it had been thrust. The con- 
fined sleeping quarters had no means of ven- 
tilation save the tiny door at the end of the 
short ladder to the deck. There was an in- 
describable odor from a combination of filthy 
bedding, damp planks and some scraps of 
ancient food which lay upon the floor and 
probably from having been lived in for years 
with never an airing. Alan’s gorge rose as 
he sniffed and realized that it was here he 
was expected to sleep! He, Alan McIntosh, 
to sleep in a hole like this — ^he, to whom a 
clean bed, a well-aired room or all outdoors 
to sleep in had always been as free as the air 
he breathed! But he conquered his repug- 
nance enough to make the rounds of his new 
home, to note that the bunks were strongly 
built, that there was absolutely no other 
egress than the ladder down which they had 
76 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


come, and to give up without another 
thought any idea that they might perhaps 
escape this prison without being observed by 
their captors. 

‘'But how in the world they ever expect us 
to live in here — ” he began, when Fred raised 
his hand at a sharp cry from above. 

“On deck, you two!” hailed a voice, and, 
nothing loath, they climbed from the stuffy 
forecastle to the brilliant deck. The steamer 
was well astern. 

There was nothing they could do. The 
afternoon passed slowly. The men let them 
severely alone; Billy Peck gibed at them occa- 
sionally, always, Alan noted with satisfac- 
tion, when Captain Briggs was out of the 
way. Supper, cooked by Billy Peck in a little 
apology for a galley, was disposed of in 
silence. Though the food was poor, there 
was plenty of it, and both Fred and Alan ate 
ravenously. Being shanghaied, they found, 
was hungry work. And it seemed a long 
77 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


time since their last meal on shore. Beans, 
pilot bread, a thick liquid called ‘‘lasses” by 
Billy Peck, and tea which was as lye to water 
compared to that Pete had served, made up 
the meal. Alan noted, but did not comment, 
on the fact that Fred made no reference to 
the unhealthfulness of strong tea. 

“Ye can turn in when ye want!” was Cap’n 
Briggs^ “good night.” And turn in they 
did, though it was with great repugnance 
that Alan lay down on the dirty bedding, 
without removing anything but his shoes. 

Indeed it was with difficulty that Fred per- 
suaded him to remove even so much of his 
clothing, so strong was his aversion to the 
odors and the coverings on or under which 
he was expected to lay his clean body. ^ 
“Of course,” snapped Fred when Alan pro- 
tested, “you do as you please. If you’re not 
utterly a fool you’ll at least take off your 
shoes. We’ve got work ahead of us, hard 
work, and swollen feet are not going to make 
78 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


it any more joyful. Just forget all your Miss 
Nancy Niceness for a little while and make 
believe you’re an Eskimo who likes dirt. 
Take off your shoes and go to sleep like a 
sensible human being.” 

Alan made no further answer, but think- 
ing that perhaps discretion was the better 
part of, in this case, decency, removed his 
shoes and lay down gingerly in the dirty 
smelly bunk. 

*‘Of course,” he told himself, ‘Vhat Fred 
says is nonsense. I could no more sleep here 
than I can fly, but perhaps he’s right about 
the swollen feet. He might have been a little 
more civil telling about it! If I had to be 
shanghaied by somebody it’s a shame it 
couldn’t be with some one more my own 
kind!” 

Even as he thought it, however, Alan’s na- 
tural sense of fairness protested. Fred evi- 
dently did his best in the afternoon to pre- 
vent friction and the events of the day had 
79 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


borne out everything Hammond said except 
the criminal brutality of the average oyster 
pirate. 

‘"Maybe I^m not quite just,” thought Alan 
in the darkness. “He’s rude and uncultured 
but he is standing his part of this mess as 
well if not better than I am.” 

Alan composed himself for a long night’s 
wakefulness. Thoughts of his father, of the 
surveying party, of the plans he had made, 
of the bad beginning with Fred Hammond 
and Captain Stamford, thronged his mind. 
Even the disagreeable relations with Fred on 
shore, however, now seemed a veritable 
Paradise compared to the difficulties in 
which he found himself. An uncomfortable 
thought kept intruding in his mind. If he 
had not been so intent on his quarrel with 
Fred, a quarrel he well realized was of his 
own picking, might they not, perhaps, have 
observed the rough customers in the tender 
and avoided them? 


80 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


It was not a happy feeling for one who ex- 
pected to lay awake all night. But Alan had 
not counted on his weariness, or the effects 
of strong excitement. 

Undercurrent to his thoughts were the 
vague noises of the ship, or the occasional 
echo of a call or command on deck, vague 
ghosts of sound rather than intelligible 
speech. There was the slap of wavelets 
against the bow in his ear, the creak of cord- 
age overhead, the nameless sounds of a ves- 
sel, moving. And healthy tiredness is no 
respecter of emotions, and Alan’s next sensa- 
tion was of some one shaking him roughly 
and Billy Peck’s voice crying in his ear, ‘‘On 
deck, there! Can’t ye hear? Move now, or 
I’ll rope’s-end ye!” 

It was broad daylight. He had slept the 
night through and Fred confessed to hav- 
ing done the same ! 

The scenery was different, when they 
arrived on deck — ^the bay into which they 
81 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


had come was wider, there were other boats 
to be seen in the distance, and it was evi- 
dent the Wasp had traveled all night. ^'We 
are lucky in one way,” observed Fred. ‘‘They 
won’t trust us at the wheel alone. We es- 
cape night watching, that way.” 

“They’d better not!” answered Alan 
grimly. “I’d pile her up for them, gladly.” 

“Yes, you can swim,” answered Fred, 
somewhat wistfully. 

“Don’t let that worry you!” cried Alan, 
turning suddenly. “I wouldn’t leave you. 
We’ll go together or not at all!” 

“You tried to go overboard from the ten- 
der,” observed Fred dispassionately. 

“Yes, to get help. We were near friends, 
then. But not now.” 

“I believe you,” said Fred thoughtfully, 
after a moment. And he smiled in a friendly 
way. Alan was secretly much pleased. Al- 
ready he had come to reverse his view-point 
of the “country lout.” A night’s sleep had 
82 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


made him see more clearly. Fred’s course 
was the wise one. It was prudence, not lack 
of courage, that dictated surrender. His 
heart warmed toward his companion in ad- 
venture. 

But this, the first day down the bay, was 
to be very different from the last. It was 
barely two bells (nine o’clock) when Bart 
let go the anchor, the sails rattled down, 
and from amidships came long -handled 
rakes, with very long tongs, indeed, and 
longer handles. Alan wondered what they 
were for. He was soon to learn. 

He saw Bart put a pair over the side, 
work them down to the bottom and then, 
apparently digging into the bottom with 
them, lock the handles together and haul 
up. Dripping sea water, gravel and shells, 
the tongs came up full of oysters. 

‘‘Looks good!” said Cap’n Briggs briefly. 
“We’ll try here a while. Get busy 1” And he 
motioned to Fred and Alan. 

83 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


But Fred did not immediately respond. 

‘‘May I ask you a question, sir?” he said, 
respectfully enough, to Cap’n Briggs. 

“Sure ! Any one may ask me a civil ques- 
tion any time !” was the answer. 

“It's against the law to tong oysters be- 
fore September fifteenth. If we are caught, 
will you say that we had to work or go 
hungry?” 

Cap'n Briggs glared. “Against the law! 
Of course it's against the law! It's against 
the law to pick you up and make you work, 
too! But why is it against the law? I ask 
you, why is it? Isn't the water free to every 
one? Did the law people put the oysters 
down? No! What right have they to say 
when I may tong and when I mayn't? None 
at all! You call me a lawbreaker! I say 
I have every right to tong when I please and 
where I please ! You people who make your 
precious laws think you can do as you please ! 
But I always have oystered when I wanted, 
84 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


and by the Great Horn Spoon I always will ! 
Now, you* get to work and don't give me 
none of your lip or I'll — Cap'n Briggs had/ 
worked himself up into a fury. He advanced 
menacingly toward Fred. 

“Yes, sir!" answered Fred obediently; “I 
wasn't questioning your rights. I just 
wanted to know if you'd hold us guiltless 
if the police boat caught — us." 

“It ain't goin' to catch us! Maybe you 
think you'll bring her here, you — you — " 
Fred turned away. Alan watching, fasci- 
nated and frightened, for they were alone 
and in the power of men so strange he only 
knew them as men because they walked and 

t 

talked, laid his hand on Fred's arm. “Take 
your own advice," he said swiftly and low. 
“Do as you are told." 

Both boys seized tongs and went to work. 
But the tonging, which looked so easy in 
Bart's strong hands, was bitterly hard to 
them. The handles, wet with salt water, 
85 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


blistered their hands. The long instruments 
were unwieldy and very tiresome to lift. 
Both boys did their best, but their catches 
were small, and in spite of the fact that both 
were speedily wet through to the skin, from 
the waist down, and that both labored hard 
to keep the wrath of Cap’n Briggs from be- 
ing directed toward them, neither made a 
great success. 

Cap’n Briggs seemed a transformed per- 
son since the Wasp had anchored. Whether 
it was anger at the questions of law and phi- 
losophy which Fred's inquiry had evoked, 
or whether he was always that way when 
at work, Alan had no idea. But he stormed 
from one side of the boat to the other. Sam, 
Bart and Billy Peck in turn each felt the 
sting of caustic tongue. 

'‘Get at it now,” he yelled, "this isn't any 
time for loafin'. Sam, Bart, ye know why 
we're here. If I catch you fellows letting up 
a minute while the tongin's good. I'll 'tend to 
86 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


ye as ye know I can! Billy Peck, those new 
kids ain’t the only ones I’ve got a rod in 
pickle for. Hump yourself, now and make 
them oysters fly on deck or I’ll make ye sorry 
ye was ever born !” 

Alan noted with wonder the rarity of any 
oaths. Billy Peck and the two men both used 
any words their tongue came to. Cap’n 
Briggs rarely, if ever, swore. 

But his tongue lashed just the same, and 
Alan found himself wondering at the person- 
ality which could make commands carry so 
much weight without the foul words which 
came so naturally to the lips of the crew. 
Indeed, Alan had to admit a rather grudging 
feeling of admiration for the red-faced 
oyster captain who was not only a hard and 
consistent worker himself but was able to 
enthuse his little crew with so much of his 
own feeling. It took no very keen perception 
to note that it was not altogether fear which 
drove Sam and Bart and Billy Peck to almost 
87 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


superhuman exertion, but some feeling of 
esprit de corps, some hidden desire to aid in 
getting the maximum number of oysters in 
the minimum of time. 

No such thoughts, however, seemed to ani- 
mate Captain Briggs. He was apparently 
possessed with the idea that every one was 
anxious to sit down and rest the minute his 
back was turned and that only by constant 
threats were his crew to be kept at their 
work. 

"‘Call yourself an oysterman?” to Billy 
Peck. ^‘Why, the little bantam, over there,” 
pointing to Alan, ‘Vorks harder ! You think 
we are going* to stay here till the whole navy 
comes along, picking up these oysters one by 
one? 

‘‘You Bart! If I see you ease up again 
I’ll — Sam, ye swine, ye tong like a child! 
Push her down and pull up something be- 
sides weeds! The kids aren’t the only ones 

that’ll go hungry 

88 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


‘Tou Fred! You loafer — you. poor shote 
— ^you — here! Give ’em to me!” 

Cap’n Briggs snatched the tongs from 
Fred’s hands. He thrust them down, deep, 
twisted them a moment in his powerful 
hands, and brought up a great mass. He 
hoisted them inboard and sent them flying, 
all over Fred’s already soaking legs. Ham- 
mond staggered but managed to recover his 
balance. 

‘‘That’s the way! No loafing now — I’m a 
fair man but no loafing — 

“You, Mac! Drop those tongs and get a 
shovel and shovel this mess together — ^jump 
now, or I’ll jump ye — ” 

Alan jumped. He found* the shovel and 
went to work. And if tonging was hard 
work, shoveling was harder. For the oysters 
were slippery and dropped fronr the shovel, 
the five others — Cap’n Briggs had* stopped 
directing and gone tonging also — ^brought 
oysters inboard as fast as he could take care 
89 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


of them, and at last, in very weariness he 
dropped his shovel and straightened his 
aching back. 

A load of oysters was flung at his feet. 
But he waited, stretching his arms above his 
head. Every muscle ached, and his hands 
were raw. It was good to stop, for a 
moment — 

There was a crunching step behind him, 
and Billy Peck took him by the shoulders. 
‘‘Stop loafing !” he cried loudly. “No work — 
no eat!” 

Alan shook his shoulder free, impatiently. 
He was not at all afraid, even though Billy 
Peck was bigger than he was. The illusion 
that Captain Briggs would not let Billy Peck 
go very far in his threats persisted. 

“Much you have to do with it!” he said 
hotly. “I’m working as hard as you are, 
and 

Cap’n Briggs interrupted. “Billy, cut 
down his beans a spoonful for every minute 
90 


A HARD EXPERIENCE 


he stands there like that. Some would knock 
him down, but not me. There’s other ways. 
No work, no eat.” 

Billy Peck grinned and moved away to his 
tongs. Alan thought the command a pleas- 
antry until they knocked off for the noonday 
meal. But in place of the generous helping 
of beans which were dumped on the tin 
plates of all his fellow workers, Alan had 
one small spoonful. 

He was indignant, but wisely kept his 
indignation to himself. And to his surprise, 
Fred Hammond did not appear to be hungry. 
He himself was ravenous. But he scorned 
to plead with Billy Peck for more beans, well 
understanding what a delight it would be to 
that vicious young man to brandish his spoon 
in his face and deny his request, with Cap- 
tain Briggs’ order for justification of his 
act. 

He soon understood Hammond’s apparent 
lack of hunger. When the men went back to 
91 


PIRATES BY FORCE 



the rail, and Billy Peck turned his back, 
Hammond shoved his half eaten beans, plate 
and all, in Alan’s hands. 

“Eat ’em quick,” he said in a low tone. 
“I’m not hungry.” 

But before Alan could obey, even if he 
were minded to, Billy Peck turned and came 
toward him, saw the plate of beans in his 
hands, and catching it neatly with a sudden 
kick, sent it, plate and all, overboard. 

Alan, clenching his fists, started forward. 

“That’s enough,” he cried wildly; “I’ve 
stood enough. Now I’m going to ” 

“You are, are you?” yelled Billy Peck in 
answer, picking up a broken rake handle. 
“Come on — I said I’d learn you, and here’s 
where I start in!” 

Nothing daunted by the club, Alan rushed 
across the deck. 


jCHAPTER III 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 

B ut before the two boys — one so cour- 
ageous, yet so slight, the other, hardy, 
strong, well built and wickedly anxious to 
*‘leam” his unwilling coworker, could come 
together, Fred Hammond intervened. He 
threw himself between the two, and caught 
Alan about the waist. 

‘Wait — wait, Alan!*^ he cried. “You 
mustn’t. You — ^you don’t know!” 

“I don’t care — I don’t care — ^he’s got it in 
for me, and I might as well have it out now — • 
no one can treat me like that — ■” 

“Hush! Hush!” Fred showed intense 
anxiety in every tone. 

“Let the little bantam go! Think he’s 
going to hurt me?” Billy Peck brandished 
his club. “Let him come!” 

93 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘Tor shame!” called Fred over his shoul- 
der. “You're twice his size and much the 
stronger. And you call yourself Eastern 
Shore!” 

For a moment the issue hung in the bal- 
ance. Then, turning away, Billy Peck 
shrugged his wide shoulders. “Some other 
time will do ! It's bound to come ! Maybe I 
won't hit him — ^just drop him overboard.” 

“Not much you won't drop him over- 
board!” put in Cap'n Briggs who had just 
come from the cabin, puffing his pipe. “You 
learn to swim first, Billy Peck, before you 
drop any o' my workers in the wet !” 

Billy Peck grinned as he walked forward. 

“Why — why wouldn't you let me? The 
beast — kicking your pan that way — ” 

“Never mind the pan. I did the right 
thing. You don't know. Suppose you fight 
him and they all jump on you? I tell you, 
Alan, you don't know these men, or what 
they will do! They don't care any more 
94 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


about the law than — ^than about beans ! We 
are in their power. Just don't notice it. 
And don’t loaf — I mean rest — if you can 
help it, when they are looking!” 

‘It was white of you, Fred. I shan’t for- 
get-^” 

Alan’s speech was not to be finished. Cap- 
tain Briggs turned, his pipe still puffing 
meditatively. 

“It’s a long time to the next meal, if the 
next meal for you is breakfast,” he observed, 
mildly for him. “I’d get to work if I was 
you!” 

The red-bearded face grinned, the hard 
eyes twinkled. 

Alan did not answer, but picked up his 
shovel and went to work. Fred was right, 
again. It would be idle to make a quarrel, 
when they were in the power of the oyster 
pirates. And he had caught sight of Fred’s 
hands, one of which was raw and bleeding 
and the other puffy. 


95 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘Tf he can stand it, I can he cried within 
himself. ‘'He's more of a chap than I 
thought. Wanted to share his meal with 
mer 

The afternoon was long, long, long. It 
was not only long for work but long for 
thought, and Alan's were not always com- 
fortable. That Fred, the despised, Fred, the 
country bumpkin, Fred, the lad without cul- 
ture or refinement, had been so generous was 
at once a delight and a reproach. Delight, 
that Fred was developing a side which Alan 
had not suspected he possessed; reproach 
that he had so misjudged his fellow in mis- 
fortune. Moreover, the thought of the quar- 
rel he provoked and which he was more and 
more coming to consider the original cause 
of their misfortune insisted on intruding it- 
self. During that almost endless afternoon, 
Alan's feelings underwent several revulsions 
and changes, and by nightfall his state of 
mind was more altered from what it had 
96 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


been in the morning than he would have be- 
lieved possible. 

The mere physical labor was extremely 
trying, especially to unused and unaccus- 
tomed muscles. Alan doubted much that he 
could have stood it without dropping from 
exhaustion had it not been for an occasional 
respite as the Wasp was moved by heaving 
on the anchor. Once there was a ten-minute 
rest as the anchor was raised, the Wasp 
towed by the dory, and the anchor dropped 
again. Fred and Alan both pulled on the 
same oar, and Alan had a feeling of comfort 
in Fred’s nearness. The quarrel the day be- 
fore seemed years ago and foolish. It was 
even with a positive affection that he re- 
garded the older lad. Through his head 
the phrase kept ringing all that afternoon, — - 
‘‘wanted to share his meal — wanted to share 
his meal.” Generous himself, generosity 
touched him quickly, and Fred’s effort to 
mitigate the childish punishment of with- 
97 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


holding food because of that unlucky stretch- 
ing, seemed to hint at a better understand- 
ing. 

There was no further deprivation of food 
that night, and Alan, too weary to be very 
hungry, had enough with what was in his 
bowl and on his plate. It was not a bad 
meal, even if Billy Peck’s cooking was not 
that of home or even of Pete in the survey 
camp. Bean soup — made by stewing beans 
for any interval which was convenient — 
boiled potatoes — a fat, greasy, salty pork 
which was either bitter or tasteless, and 
pilot bread or ‘‘hard tack” as Alan called it, 
> — it was more filling than palatable, yet with 
the strong tea warming and strengthening. 

It was this evening that Alan had the 
brilliant idea that he would like an oyster. 
But luckily he said so before he tried to eat 
one. 

“Why not have a mess of oysters?” he 
asked Fred, low. “They would certainly 
98 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


taste better than this — ^this stuff!” Alan 
indicated his pork with a slight gesture of 
one finger. 

‘‘No!” answered Fred. “They won’t let 
you touch ’em! Two reasons — you may get 
a bad one and get sick — and they want our 
labor, and every oyster you eat is one less to 
sell. Don’t you dare!” 

Alan felt piqued. Fred’s tone was com- 
manding and dictatorial. But seeing Bart’s 
eye, curious at the tone, bent upon them, he 
decided that discretion was better than a 
satisfied hunger. But nothing that had hap- 
pened so far so clearly marked to him the 
difference between his real life and this 
nightmare, as the fact that, amongst plenty, 
he must not touch the one food that he 
thought to be palatable. 

The instant the simple supper was over, 
Alan started to go to his bunk. But Fred 
held up a finger. Alan waited. Presently 
he followed Fred to the rail. 

99 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“What have you in your pockets?” Ham- 
mond asked him, without preamble. 

“Knife, handkerchief, small kodak, three 
rolls of film, watch, seventy cents, pencil, 
small note-book — I think that’s all,” an- 
swered Alan, feeling for the various articles. 
“Why?” 

“Pve a knife, a compass, a dollar watch, 
and a hank of fishing line,” answered Fred. 
“I wanted to know what our resources were. 
Let’s look at your hands !” Alan held them 
out, cut and bleeding from the oyster shells 
and the heavy work. Fred shook his head 
at the sight. 

“It’s oyster-shell poisoning I’m afraid of. 
It gets in cuts and swells the flesh. Mine are 
not so bad — I didn’t do any shoveling.” 

“I guess yours are bad enough.” Alan’s 
hands hurt, but he paid little attention to 
them. “Got any plan ?” 

“Not yet. Hang to it, Mac — ^the first day 
is the hardest. I — ^hush! There’s Peck!” 

100 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


“Looking for you ! There’s a mess o’ dirty 
plates, and pots in the galley. Yesterday’s 
and to-day’s. Go wash ’em up.” 

He spoke to both boys impersonally. 

Alan turned and faced him. He wondered 
if he could stand much more of this. He 
resented not only the command but the evi- 
dent delight in Billy Peck’s voice at requir- 
ing this additional service. But remember- 
ing the near trouble of the afternoon and 
Fred’s words, he held his temper in. 

“Do you think washing dishes will help 
these hands to get ready for more tonging?” 
he asked, holding them out. As he did so, 
he caught sight of Captain Briggs leaning 
against the foremast, thirty feet away. He 
seemed to be contemplating the shore line, 
but something in his attitude told Alan he 
was listening. The illusion that he was 
friendly, reinforced by his contradiction of 
Billy Peck’s threat, came back. 

“Shucks! So its poor hands are tender. 

101 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Well, it will do you good ! Get aft, now, and 
wash up for me, before I make you ! Maybe 
you'd like to start something again, or may- 
be you'd like to go without your breakfast 
to-morrow?" 

‘‘No," cried Alan loudly. “And I don't 
think I'll have to. Since when were you cap- 
tain of the TFasp.^" 

The figure leaning against the mast stirred 
slightly. Fred Hammond plucked him by the 
sleeve, but he went on, unheeding. He was 
confident that Billy Peck's orders were given 
without reference to the captain. He had 
the feeling that Captain Briggs was kindly 
at heart — lawbreakers and men drivers, to 
his mind, were profane and brutal. Captain 
Briggs was not profane, and his brutality 
was simply roughness — or so Alan read it. 
Besides, the captain had defended him in the 
afternoon. 

“I'm not!” answered Billy Peck, smiling 
evilly. “Wash up job's always for th^ 
102 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


ship's boy! Will you go or shall I make 
you?" 

‘T'll go," answered Fred for him. ‘^Let 
him alone, he's tired. It's all new to him." 

Fred Hammond read the leaning figure 
against the mast differently. He knew that 
Captain Briggs had heard Billy Peck's 
orders, and that Alan's raised voice had not 
escaped him. But his offer was not accepted. 

"‘Let the little cuss do it," came from Cap- 
tain Briggs. “Must have discipline here! 
Too much gabbing ! If his hands are tender, 
Billy Peck, there's that lump of salt pork you 
can use." 

Alan turned and went. Tears of mortifi- 
cation and rage were in his eyes. But his 
hands hurt too badly for him to consider 
any rough and tumble with Billy Peck now. 
He could only guess that the lump of salt 
pork might be to toughen sore hands or to 
counteract the poison from the shells, but the 
mere thought was agony. 

103 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


As he washed the greasy pans, aching in 
every muscle and a rage in his heart that 
frightened him, he heard Billy Peck's mock- 
ing laughter. 

‘‘His hands are tender,” came the derisive 
tones. “I'll tender him.” 

“I hate him — oh, I hate him !” Alan cried 
fiercely, savagely, to himself. “Bully and 
coward! Oh, when I get a chance— 

I get a chance!” 

But the longed for chance never seemed to 
come. This, the first day at tonging, was but 
a sample of others that were to come — long 
days, endless days, painful days of brutal 
driving to the last limit of strength, days of 
torment at the hands of Billy Peck. For 
Billy Peck developed a superlative skill in 
the art of making both boys miserable, with- 
out any flagrant violation of what Cap'n 
Briggs considered “discipline.” He seemed 
to have an instinctive dislike of both lads — 
a feeling not shared by either Sam or Bart, 
104 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


who, while they laughed and guffawed at 
every trick Billy Peck played, would laugh 
as loudly, when, as sometimes happened, 
Billy Peck got reprimanded by Cap’n Briggs. 

Billy Peck’s tactics were mean rather 
than vicious. There was always the threat 
of his greater size and strength before both 
boys and no bully of the school yard was 
ever more cordially detested by his mates 
than was this same young oyster pirate by 
his unwilling companions. Alan would have 
fought him at any time, and Fred was often 
sorely tempted to meet the unspoken threat 
with a weapon such as Billy Peck seemed 
always to have at hand — a club. But Fred 
had lived on the Eastern Shore all his life, 
and knew both the high ideals of its native 
population, and how they ran to seed in a 
certain type of fisherman. He had seen the 
pitiful shanghaied wrecks which crawled 
into the towns at times, and knew that, as he 
had told Alan, they were luckier than either 
105 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


really knew at getting on so mild a boat. But 
he was afraid the ‘‘mildness” was only skin 
deep — memories of Cap'n Briggs’ fury on 
the first day and occasional reminders when 
the work didn’t suit him kept him cautious. 
It was no lack of courage on Fred’s part and 
Alan did him the justice to recognize it, even 
while resenting the tone Fred took with him 
and the lack of sympathy with what Alan 
called to himself “their pitiful condition.” 

Billy Peck made Fred miserable, and knew 
it, by his constant hectoring of Alan. Mean 
little tricks, many of them — hiding a shoe 
for a day, and getting Alan a sore foot, cut 
on the oyster shells — ^tying his jacket sleeve 
in a water-soaked knot — putting a mess of 
rotten oysters in his bunk — things to laugh 
at when an equal association permitted a 
retaliation in kind, but things irritating in 
the extreme when there was no chance to 
fight back. 

The work took all their strength. Neither 
106 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


lad was used to the terrific strain of oyster 
dredging, and both spent many wearisome 
and pain-filled hours as unaccustomed mus- 
cles learned their tasks. But it was not that, 
nor even the sore hands and cut skins which 
hurt the worst, but the constant sense of 
being prisoners, of being forced to work, of 
having the constant threat of fearful bodily 
violence held over them, the more terrible 
that it was never made in words. Finally 
was the lack of the clean-cut association of 
school and camp. Living with men who had 
but one aim — to steal oysters — ^but one 
thought — to cheat the law — ^but one idea of 
bliss — ^to take their earnings and go to Balti- 
more and carouse — ^but one conception of fun 
— to hector and tease those weaker and unfor- 
tunate — was not, to say the least, pleasant. 

But Fred Hammond and Alan McIntosh 
were both healthy boys and both had innate 
courage. As the long days passed, and the 
Wasy moved from place to. place, never stay- 
107 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


ing long in any one location, and frequently 
working at night, instead of in the day-time, 
both grew somewhat used to the abrupt 
change in their lives. 

The hours were fearfully long. The work 
was bitterly hard. The food was monotonous 
and tasteless. Pleasure they had none, in the 
ordinary sense, but Alan, if not Fred, grew 
to appreciate the luxury of rest, of sleep, 
dreamless and exhausted, as a priceless pleas- 
ure. All day long, and often far into the 
night his mind would dwell on the dirty 
stuffy bunk, his imagination seeing in ad- 
vance the joy of the stretching of each sore 
muscle, of the splendid happiness of forget- 
ting for a few hours the misery which was 
the daily work. He even grew used to the 
lack of decent conversation, of expecting 
nothing but rough commands, of gruff in- 
structions and of volleys of abuse from 
Cap'n Briggs — always, however, without 
profanity — whenever he made a mistake or 
108 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 

stopped a moment to rest his weary body. 
Tireless themselves, with muscles like steel, 
inured to the hardest of hard work, neither 
Captairi Briggs, Billy Peck, Sam nor Bart 
had any sympathy with a minute’s loafing. 
And it was not many days before Alan came 
to realize that, hunted as these men were, be- 
lieving in their hearts that what they did 
was right and risking their liberty for the 
pitiful profit of a few stolen oysters, they 
were right not to permit even the unwilling 
victims of their hatred of the law to loaf 
and so' diminish the illegal catch which, prop- 
erly handled, would spell comfort for these 
men and their families through the early 
spring and summer. 

Never for an instant were the boys left in 
such a position that they could escape. The 
tender towed behind looked promising, but it 
was held by a chain, locked. They passed 
close to shore often enough — ^but never with- 
out Sam or Bart or Billy Peck close at hand. 

109 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


They never anchored close to shore at night 
or in the day if they anchored for sleep. And 
they never spoke another boat, nor were the 
boys permitted to hail any other boat, though 
the crew and Cap’n Briggs himself often 
‘^passed the word'’ to a neighbor on the 
water. 

At every opportunity Fred and Alan dis- 
cussed the chances of their escape and made 
wild plan after wild plan. 

‘‘Maybe we can find a file somewhere and 
cut through the chain that holds the boat," 
was one of Fred's suggestions. 

“How about stealing in on the captain and 
getting his key sometime?" said Alan. 
“Judging from the funny noise he makes 
whenever he is in his bunk he sleeps pretty 
sound." 

“I don't think so," answered Fred cau- 
tiously. “He makes enough noise, I grant 
you, but I notice if anything unexpected hap- 
pens on the boat he is wide awake in an in- 
110 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


stant. Spite of his fairly decent behavior so 
far, I'm sure I don't want to be the one 
caught trying to steal the key from around 
his neck!" 

*‘No," confessed Alan, smiling somewhat 
wryly, ‘T don't think I'd choose that either. 
We'll have to think of something else." 

But ‘'something else" was hard to plan and 
though both boys racked their brains and 
made plan after plan, escape seemed no 
nearer. 

Once they worked all night, shipping their 
oysters to a larger boat which loomed up out 
of the darkness and grappled to them. Hope 
ran high in both boys' breasts. But Fred 
soon laid the ghost of the hope. 

“Just a bigger pirate!" he whispered. 
“Not a chance!" 

“Why do we ship 'em out now?" asked 
Alan once of Bart. “She isn't nearly full." 

“Why, so as to get some ready money, of 
course !" was the surprised answer. “Oysters 
111 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


is worth more now than they will be when 
the season starts! Don’t ye know any- 
thing?” 

Another time they ran into a cove, such as 
Fred had shrewdly predicted and unloaded 
on to a small wharf in many dirty baskets. 
But Alan and Fred worked in the waist of the 
ship, and Cap’n Briggs himself was never 
ten feet from them. The flitting lanterns 
gave no indication of what sort of a shore it 
might be, and though Alan, alone, would 
gladly have taken the chance and jumped 
overboard and swum, he would not leave 
Fred. 

*Tf you could get away and get the police 
boat — ” whispered Fred to him so softly he 
could hardly hear the words. 

‘‘Yes — if. But if they caught me, neither 
of us would be any better off. And — if they 
are really as bad as you say — 

Alan had never been quite able to con- 
vince himself that the crew of the Wasp were 
112 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


as lawless and as bad as Fred insisted all 
oyster pirates must be, underneath. 

You’re right!” commented Fred briefly. 
‘‘But keep looking. Our chance will come.” 

“It’s eight days now!” returned Alan, 
wielding his shovel strongly, for he felt 
Cap’n Briggs’ eye on him. 

“It seems a year!” answered Fred Ham- 
mond. “If I only could have cut something 
else on that gunwale — they must have read 
it! Captain Stamford must have read it! 
He must be looking for us !” 

“Suppose they don’t? What’s the longest 
time we could be kept here?” asked Alan 
cautiously. 

Fred hesitated. He did not want to make 
his younger companion despondent. Insensi- 
bly his attitude had developed into one of 
a protecting elder brothership — Alan, be- 
wildered by his experience, appealed to him 
much more than Alan, fresh from the city, 
in new clothes, as a raw survey rodman. 

113 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


But Alan read the hesitation. He smiled 
inwardly sometimes at Fred's attitude, but 
liked it none the less. He found much less 
to criticize about Fred than at first, and even 
listened with some pleasure to Hammond's 
occasional didactic lessons on hygiene and 
prophylaxis, usually called forth by some un- 
cleanly action of the crew. Both boys had 
grown used to the idea of Alan's being dish- 
washer. Indeed, as Alan said himself, ‘It's 
better to do the work and know they are 
clean !” 

So that, in the certain degree of intimacy 
which had sprung up between the two cap- 
tured lads, there was not an entire lack of 
mutual understanding. 

‘‘You needn't hesitate ! I guess if the life 
won't kill me, the facts won't!" And Alan 
grinned. “Spit it out I" 

“All winter, then!" said Fred quietly. 
“And it's mighty cold — " 

“All the more reason to keep our wits 
114 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


working, then!” countered Alan, but his 
spirits fell. All winter! His school — ^the 
survey work — the hardship — ^his father's 
frantic worry — ; 

‘There must be a chance !” he cried softly. 
“There must be some way ! There shall be !” 

It was the next day that Alan thought he 
had found his chance. A peak halyard, old 
and rotten, broke, and the mainsail flapped 
and dropped, slapping in the breeze. 

Cap'n Briggs ordered the foresail down at 
once. He “broke out” a new rope from some- 
where aft and threw it on the deck in front 
of Alan. 

“Up you go !” he cried. “Climb the rings.” 
He pointed to the wooden rings which en- 
circled the mast and by which the sail was 
attached to it. 

“Take the end, tie it round yer waist and 
hustle. Can't stay here all day!” 

Alan needed no one to explain why he was 
chosen. He was the lightest of them all, and 
115 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


the rings looked none too strong. The old 
and weather-beaten throat halyard would 
have to support both the sail and the weight 
of the climber. 

But though Alan was no sailor, he had no 
fear of the work. In fact, it came rather as 
a welcome diversion. His hands had hard- 
ened and toughened, his muscles no longer 
ached like a sore tooth, and it was with alac- 
rity that he tied the rope about his waist 
and started up the flapping sail, holding 
about the mast with his arms while he 
stepped with difficulty from ring to ring. 

Once up to the block on the mast through 
which he was to reeve the rope, he took his 
time. It was a novel position, and he enjoyed 
it. It was a bright and sunshiny day, and 
the wide bay was dotted with boats — few of 
them similar to his own however. Most of 
them were the triangular sailed bug-eyes, 
typical Chesapeake Bay craft. Others were 
broad-sterned oyster schooners, many with 
116 



Alan started up the flapping sail 








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BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


mechanical chain-operated tongs on either 
side. Alan saw no other small ‘‘regular'* 
schooner like the Wasp and thanked his stars 
for his better accommodations, poor as they 
were. At least the Wasp had a galley and 
didn’t have to have meals prepared in the 
forecastle. 

All these boats, presumably, were engaged 
in catching oysters before the legal season 
opened. But he could see nothing of their 
piratical activities and realized how hard it 
might be for any police boat to catch a man 
at oyster pirating, since, long before the 
police boat might come up with a suspect, 
every oyster on board would be dumped into 
the water again. Unless observed within a 
comparatively short distance, oyster tonging 
does not show if sails are up to hide the long 
handles which might otherwise show against 
the sky-line. 

But as Alan turned around to look in the 
other direction, he saw smoke. At almost 
117 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


the same instant he heard Bart call to Fred. 
“Down in the hole with ye — ^tell you when 
ye can come upT' 

It was a familiar command, and Alan had 
obeyed it often. The men took no chances 
of his communicating with any steamer by 
voice or signal. But here he was, up on the 
top of the mast, and those below were unable 
to send him down! Should he — 

“Hi! Aloft!” It was Billy Peekes voice. 
Alan chose not to hear it. 

“Hi, aloft there ! Hustle that rope through 
and come down!” 

Alan looked down at Billy Peck, oddly 
fore-shortened from that height, his face 
anxious. 

“I wish I had something to throw at him !” 
thought Alan. But he smiled to himself, 
knowing that he wouldn’t throw anything 
that would hurt. He had a momentary im- 
pulse to throw the rope down, but knew that 
would do him no good. Then, at Billy Peck’s 
118 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


third impatient call, Alan knew he was, in 
his turn, tormenting the tormentor. So he 
kept obstinately silent. 

The steamer was coming up rapidly. She 
was a large screw steamer and Alan could 
see dots upon her — people. He guessed it 
might be a Baltimore-Washington freight 
boat, though he did not know the flag at her 
staff. 

And — Billy Peck was anxious. If he could 
only signal — if he could only make them 
understand— 

Feverishly he pulled from about his neck 
the handkerchief and, awkwardly, but clearly, 
he signaled the passing steamer, using the 
Boy Scout flag code, which he had learned 
in earlier days. 

“H-e-l-p — s-h-a-n-g-a-i-e-d,” he waved — 
time after time. 

His heart beat high with hope. If they 
were rescued through his cleverness would it 
not be a wonderful story to tell the boys back 
119 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


in camp and at school? Alan knew he had 
not much time; Billy Peck stopped calling, 
Alan guessed to go in search of Captain 
Briggs. But the very thought was inspira- 
tion and, faster and faster, he waved the 
bandanna up and down, back and forth, 
spelling out the two words which he hoped 
would bring the rescue. 

That the captain of the steamer might not 
know the code he was using never occurred 
to Alan. Knowing it was founded upon 
signal codes actually in use, he felt the com- 
bination of circumstances which sent him 
aloft when a signal, if read, would do the 
most good, was too much like an act of Prov- 
idence not to work out to their advantage. 

‘‘H-e-l-p s-h-a-n-g-h-a-i-e-d,” he waved. 
Then, as the steamer came closer and closer, 
merely the last word, ‘"S-h-a-n-g-h-a-i-e-d,” 
time after time. But it was for only a little 
while. Suddenly Captain Briggs’ rough 
voice came up to Alan, Billy Peck joining in. 

120 


BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 


Alan had fearlessly disregarded Peck's com- 
mands but he knew better than not to obey 
when Captain Briggs yelled. 

**YoUy Mac! Hustle up — and stop a-wavin'. 
Stop it now, or — 

Alan had two more waves to complete his 
last word and made one of them. But be- 
fore he could complete the other, he felt the 
rings give beneath him, and, suddenly hold- 
ing in terror to the heavy spar, slid, sprawl- 
ing and tangled in rope and canvas to the 
deck! 

Billy Peck had dropped the sail, and Alan 
with it. 

Alan was dumped hard by the sudden stop 
and rose, somewhat dazed, to his feet. Billy 
Peck regarded him wickedly, smiling, but 
made no move toward him. Cap'n Briggs 
stretched forth one pudgy hand, grabbed 
Alan by the collar and jerked him off his 
feet and shook him. Alan felt no fear, only 
amazement — ^for Cap'n Briggs held him in 
121 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


the air by one hand as easily as he would 
hold a small dog. 

«You — ^you — you!” he cried, punctuating 
each word with a shake. ‘‘What do you 
mean, you blasted city-rat, not coming down 
when I call you? What do you mean, 
a-wavin' to that steamer? If I thought you 
said anything — ” 

His eye grew hard at the words and Alan 
felt a sudden fear. 

“I was only waving at the ship passing,” 
he protested, even in his excitement choosing 
his words carefully. He did not stop to argue 
out with himself the question as to whether 
a lie would be justifiable under the circum- 
stances. A truthful boy, he held to the strict 
truth, even if willing that Cap'n Briggs mis- 
understand him. And Cap'n Briggs, appar- 
ently reflecting that it was natural for a 
“city-rat” to wave at a steamer, relaxed his 
grasp. 

“Just a-wavin’, was ye?” he snarled. 

122 



Fred remembered some football tricks 





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BILLY PECK, TORMENTOR 
y 

‘'Well, maybe ! But when I call on this sloop, 
ye jump! And Billy Peck — he called ye! 
And I don't know what he's a-goin' to do and 
I don't care ! We got to maintain discipline 
on this schooner ! Did ye get her rove?" 

Alan didn't know. But it turned out that 
he had, and that the end of the bight had 
come down with him. That much at least 
was in his favor. He had not anything to 
do over. 

Cap'n Briggs strode away, forward. Alan 
heard him talking in a low tone to Bart and 
Sam. But he had little time to listen, for 
Billy Peck was standing over him, menac- 
ingly. 

“Ye heard? He doesn't know what Billy 
Peck is going to do and he doesn't care I I'll 
learn ye to sit aloft and stare at me when 
I call ye ! I'm a-going to give you something 
ye won't forget and that's the licking I've 
had in pickle for ye ever since I sat on ye in 
the tender — city smarty! Tender hands! 

123 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Good clothes ! Stand up, now, ye scum ! Will 
ye take it sittin’ or shall I — ” 

Alan, glad in his heart that he could work 
out his destiny with Billy Peck without 
Fred’s restraining hands, suddenly sprang to 
his feet. Knowing that he stood no chance 
in a fist fight with a lad forty pounds heavier 
and remembering some football tricks, he 
jumped in, dived and caught Billy Peck 
about the knees. That young man, taken 
completely by surprise, promptly fell over, 
and fell hard. And when he started to get 
to his feet again, something pushed him back, 
and Alan, one knee on his chest, looked down 
in his face. In his hand was Billy Peck’s 
own club. 


CHAPTER IV 


escape! 

A lan was cool and collected. Within 
, himself he knew that he would never 
strike a prostrate foe with a club or anything 
else. But he thought it very likely that Billy 
Peck knew nothing about school ideas of fair 
play and the right way to fight. So he bran- 
dished it menacingly in the air. 

‘‘Now then,” he cried, “have you got 
enough before we start? Or shall I — ?” The 
stick wavered again over the fallen boy. 

There was a shout of laughter from behind, 
and Billy Peck, on the deck, on his chest the 
knee of his erstwhile victim, flushed. 

“Well, for the love o' the Great Horn 
Spoon! I didn't know what Billy Peck was 
a-going ter do to the bantam and I didn't 
care — and now look! By the Great Horn— ^ 
125 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Sam, Bart! Come look at the little bantam, 
will ye? Billy Peck, I thought ye was a- 
going to trounce him for me I” 

Again the shout of laughter and Alan, 
tasting the sweets of the victor, wished Fred 
were there to see, instead of a prisoner in the 
forecastle. 

‘‘Are ye goin’ ter brain him? Don’t ye — • 
I need him I” commanded Cap’n Briggs. 

Billy Peck knew when he was beaten. 

“Nuff I” he cried softly. “Let me up.” 

“Are we quittings?” cried Alan, using a 
phrase he had caught from Bart and Sam. 
“You let me alone?” 

“Course ye’r quittings — on this, anyway !” 
And once more Cap’n Briggs laughed. It 
came to Alan queerly that there was a tone 
of kindliness in the laughter. 

He stood up and dropped the club, then 
stretching forth his hand, pulled Billy Peck 
to his feet by one wrist. Billy Peck impa- 
tientiy shook himself free. 

126 


ESCAPE 


“Yes — quittings now !” he cried, and there 
was red anger in his eyes and Alan read a 
vicious threat in his voice. “Quittings now ! 
But — but — look outr And Billy Peck went 
aft. 

“Yes, look out!” cried Cap’n Briggs, so sud- 
denly and so fiercely that Alanr recoiled as 
from a blow, “I left it to Billy Peck to show 
ye ye better mind — and that iPs mighty 
dangerous business fer a man to do any wav- 
in’ on the Wasp! And Billy Peck he didn’t 
do it, and so I can’t. But don’t ye ever, ever 
do it again, young man — don’t ye! There’s 
oyster captains and oyster captains and some 
of ’em would kill ye now — or nearly. There’s 
ways and ways — and- — and don’t ye do it!” 

Cap’n Briggs turned on his heel. Fred, 
who had heard something of what was going 
on, appeared in the forecastle opening. Alan 
walked toward him, feeling queerly fright- 
ened, now that it was over — as if something 
dangerous and abnormal — something ele- 
127 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


mental and murderous had brushed him with 
its wings. The concentrated fury in Cap’n 
Briggs* face, the working jaw, the glaring 
eyes and the vicious meaning in the voice 
were a revelation. Suppose he had been ac- 
tually caught signaling? Suppose the big 
steamer had come or sent to his rescue, would 
he have lived to be rescued ? He didn*t know. 
There was that in Cap*n Briggs* face which 
seemed to speak of things altogether beyond 
Alan*s ken — ^things of violence, of bloody 
deeds, of unscrupulousness, of utter disre- 
gard of life and limb and pain. 

Memories of Fred*s account of what he had 
seen came to Alan*s mind. Hardly noted and 
not at all believed at the time there now arose 
in his brain a picture of a man with a bloody 
scalp, a broken arm, stepping, maimed, 
ashore from a pirate vessel. TTiere was a 
vision of a man walking through the woods, 
senses gone from ill-treatment; another, of 
one blinded from hot coffee. Suddenly Alan 
128 


ESCAPE 


saw his captors in a new light. His hair rose 
with the thought of what might have been 
and he wondered at the courage which had 
possessed him. But he was not prepared, in 
spite of these feelings, for what Fred had to 
say about it. 

‘‘That was near — ^near!” said Fred in a 
low tone. “Tell me the first of it.” 

Alan told, simply and quickly, of what he 
had doner and what had hapi)ened. He made 
his recital simple, but he couldn’t help but 
feel that it showed him in a good light to 
Fred. Fred would see that he could take 
care of himself, even without Fred Hammond 
to intervene. Fred would see that he had 
plenty of courage. Fred would rejoice, too, 
at the discomfort of Billy Peck. 

But alas for Alan ! Fred seemed to think 
in just the opposite way. 

“You are a fool !” he cried low but tense. 
“You don’t know anything! Oh, why wasn’t 
I there!” 


129 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘‘Why — what — what^s the matter? What 
have I done?"' 

“Done? Put yourself in worse danger — 
put us both in danger ! First with a foolish 
attempt to signal — ^you donT suppose a boat 
captain knows Boy Scout signals? Bosh! 
Then, getting in a scrap with Billy Peck and 
not carrying it through ! He'll think you are 
a weakling — he'll get his revenge some way ! 
Before he was just teasing — now he is your 
enemy! You ought to have gone through 
with it — ^belted him over the head good and 
plenty when you had the chance! I can't 
seem to teach you this is no afternoon tea 
party !” 

“I — I couldn’t hit him when he was down !” 
stammered Alan, aghast at this point of view. 

“Couldn't you? Well, see if he feels that 
way, when he gets his chance ! Oh, if I had 
only — " 

“Hi! All hands!” 

It was Cap'n Briggs' voice, and there was 
130 


ESCAPE 


that in it which made them jump. The 
orders came swiftly. The foresail was 
raised. The mainsail, its peak now sup- 
ported with the rope Alan had rove, was 
sheeted home. Excited looks to the stem 
led Alan’s eyes. There was a white dot on 
the water — a dot which seemed to grow 
slowly in size. 

“What is it?” asked Fred curiously of 
Bart, as together they hauled on the sheet 
and threw the Was'p up into the wind on 
what was her speediest tack. 

“Police boat !” was the quick answer. 
“We’ll cut and run for hideaway. The old 
man won’t dump if he can help it. The 
Wasp can outsail that gas barge if this 
breeze’ll only hold. Look out ye don’t raise 
a hand — ^the old man’ll be wild. He hates the 
police — ^he thinks the laws is wrong. Lie 
low — you and the little bantam!” 

It was friendly advice and Fred smiled 
his thanks although he had no idea of what 
131 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘‘cut and run for hideaway’’ might mean. 
But it was good advice. He touched Alan on 
the arm and drew him forward, away from 
the temptation to signal again and bring 
down Cap’n Briggs’ wrath. 

“If he thinks the police boat came from 
your signaling that steamer — I’m afraid!”/ 
he cried softly. “But if he doesn’t think so 
and they get near — Alan, jump for it. 
They’ll pick you up. And then you tell ’em. 
Never mind me, that I can’t swim — ^you jump 
and swim for it, and then they’ll come back 
for me !” 

“Fred, I can’t jump and leave you! 

“But, man alive — it’s our chance !” 

The words were strong and hearty but the 
tone — ^what was the matter with the tone? 
Was Fred still angry over Alan’s attempt to 
signal? Alan thought it likely — he himself 
still felt resentful. Fred might know a good 
deal but he didn’t know it all ! 

Alan looked about him. Cap’n Briggs at 
132 


ESCAPE 


the helm showed a hard anxious face. Bart 
and Sam stood to the sheets, trimming the 
sails for all the speed there was in the Wasp, 
Billy Peck was facing astern, an old and bat- 
tered pair of glasses in his hands. There 
was tense anxiety in every face. And Alan 
understood. It was their, life of liberty they 
were racing for — ^their right to take oysters 
as they understood the right of nature, and 
not of laws made by men who ate the oysters 
for which others labored. 

It was not as lawbreakers that they fled, 
but as those who must dodge an unrighteous 
law. Suddenly he felt a curious little wish 
in his heart — a wish that the police boat 
might not catch up. It was inexplicable, but 
it was true. His hardships, his danger, his 
trouble with Billy Peck faded. He saw only 
Cap’n Briggs, captured — saw Bart and Sam, 
perhaps in prison stripes — saw Billy Peck, 
once his tormentor, lately his ransomed vic- 
tim, who had cried ‘‘quittings,’' in a prison- 
133 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


er’s dock. And he felt ashamed that he could 
harbor the thought, but — ^he wasnT sympa- 
thizing with the police boat. 

'1 hope — oh — I hope — ” he began impul- 
sively. 

‘‘Hush !” commanded Fred harshly. “DonT 
say anything!” 

Then Billy Peck turned and looked for- 
ward. 

“She’s a-comin’ fast — fast!” he cried. 
“Can’t ye pull her ahead a leetle — ^jest a 
leetle, Cap’n Briggs? Half an hour and we’ll 
be among ’em — ” 

“She’s doin’ all she’s got — all she’s got!” 
groaned the man at the wheel. 

Over the stem Alan and Fred could see 
the police boat, a wide smother of foam under 
her bows. She was still too distant to make 
out any figures, but they could see that she 
was coming, and coming fast. 

It was with the most mingled feelings that 
Alan watched, fascinated, the swift police 
134 


ESCAPE 


boat creep, creeping up, and the Wasp, every 
inch of canvas spread, racing down* and away. 
If the Wasp was caught — ^that ended the ad- 
venture. If she got away — well, tiiere was 
Billy Peck, evidently a more serious menace 
than Alan had realized, and probably more 
hardship and hard work in increasing quan- 
tity. Of course, he mustn’t let Fred know he 
had any sympathy with the Wasp — ^that 
would never do. Fred was too sure they were 
all criminals and lawbreakers and bad men. 

But Alan made up his mind that, chance 
or no chance, he would not throw himself 
overboard in the hope of being picked up. 
If the boats came close enough to make that 
plan feasible, it would mean the certain cap- 
ture of the Wasp, and the wetting unneces- 
sary. Alan had no illusions about his swim- 
ming ability and feared drowning more than 
Billy Peck. 

But as it turned out, he never had the 
chance. He was standing in the bow looking 
135 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


astern, and had paid no attention to what the 
Wasp was doing save that she was losing 
ground. But the change in the expression 
of the faces of Sam and Bart, and something 
in the relaxed attitude of Captain Briggs at 
the wheel told him, even before Billy Peck’s 
triumphant shout, that the danger was past. 

For a moment he failed to understand. 
There came the police boat — why was the 
danger over? Why were they all smiling? 
Suddenly he turned. The Wasp was pointed 
for the shore — or so it seemed. Then he saw 
it was a narrow opening, and in a moment, 
as the Wasp dodged in behind a group of 
small islands, he understood. The police boat 
could not follow with any hope of success — 
the Wasp could outsail the gas boat in dodg- 
ing around the channels, and the darkness, 
soon to fall, would enable her to get away. 
Before he knew it, the words were out. 

‘‘That was a near squeak. I’m — I’m glad !” 
he cried softly. But Fred heard him. Alan 
136 


ESCAPE 


watched his head turn in trepidation. What 
would Fred say — or what would he think and 
not say? 

But Fred said nothing. Merely looked 
Alan up and down, with wonder in his face. 
Then this : 

‘T didn’t know your kind of fool grew in 
the city!” And the tone was an enigma. 

But before he could ask a question, Fred 
laid a sudden hand on his arm. 

‘‘Listen!” he cried tensely. “I think we 
get our chance to-night. The Wasp will hide 
among these islands until dark. Then, if I 
am right, she will cut and run and be miles 
away. We are not over a hundred yards 
from shore now, and we will be hugging it 
until dark. If we can get a couple of oars, 
or rake handles, we can wait until the Wasp 
starts out and then jump over. She won’t 
stop to pick us up, once she starts. The 
handles will hold us ilp and — it’s better to be 
on shore, even on an island, than here !” 

137 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


*'Right!” answered Alan shortly. ‘Tf we 
can get the wood.” 

‘"Leave your kodak — ^your watch. Take 
your knife.” 

“Why leave the kodak?” Alan had not 
understood. 

“No good after it's wet — neither is your 
watch. Better have no more weight in the 
water than you can help !” 

“I understand,” nodded Alan. “I'll put 
'em in my bunk — that's in case we can get 
the handles.” 

Fred did not answer. But it proved not 
difficult. The whole crew were too occupied 
in maneuvering the Wasp, in watching for 
the police boat, and in talking in low tones 
of the escape, to pay much attention to the 
two boys. They went about their work as 
usual, Fred shoveling oysters, Alan, at Billy 
Peck's gruff command, starting the beans to 
heat and making the lye-like tea, which he 
was careful to make plenty strong, lest no- 
138 


ESCAPE 


tice be taken. And Fred laid a couple of 
spare tong handles out of the way by the rail 
and saw that a rope's end was hanging out- 
board. If Alan unlashed the spare oars near 
the stem, no one seemed to notice or to care. 

The attempt was not to be made without 
the Wasp starting on her runaway. And 
the Wasp seemed unaccountably slow in 
starting. Supper came and went, Alan 
struggling with the pots and dirty dishes as 
usual. The Wasp continued to tack back and 
forth, slowly, idly, in the little cove between 
the islands. There were no riding lights lit, 
no running lights — though this was nothing 
unusual. Captain Briggs stepped to the gal- 
ley door and looked in at Alan at work at his 
greasy task. 

“You know how to keep your mouth shut?" 
he questioned sharply. 

“Yes, sir — I think so," stammered Alan, 
startled by the sudden fierceness of the ques- 
tion. 


139 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


^‘Better be sure !” was the mysterious warn- 
ing. 

He was gone as suddenly as he had come. 
Fred looked in a moment afterward. He 
beckoned Alan to him. 

“I overheard!” he whispered. “They fig- 
ure the police boat is waiting for them to run 
away — and iPs starlight. So they will wait 
here until toward morning before they go 
to hideaway. It seems they expect it to cloud 
up then. Pretend to sleep but — don’t I” 

“I understand,” answered Alan in a whis- 
per. “But is there any hope in what you 
overheard ?” 

“Certainly,” snapped Fred. “If the police 
boat is going to wait for them, it will wait 
for us. We won’t have to try to swim to 
shore. If we can find out where she is, we 
can get on board, tell them what we know 
and they’ll be all the more anxious to chase 
them down and all the more able to find them. 
You can swim and don’t dread this water 
140 


ESCAPE 


expedition at all, but it isn’t the easiest thing 
in the world for me, who can’t swim a stroke, 
to get overboard and paddle around half the 
night in an attempt to find shore. If we 
could get to one of these islands and then find 
the police boat we’d be that much better off.” 

Alan nodded. He hadn’t thought the pro- 
posed escape held any terrors for Fred. 
Trained to the water, he had long lost all fear 
of it even though he knew his swimming 
powers were somewhat limited. And Fred 
had never before exhibited any terror of go- 
ing overboard. But as Alan lay in his bunk 
and stared at nothing overhead and waited 
and waited and waited, he came to feel that 
perhaps Fred was showing a higher quality 
of courage in what he had proposed than he 
had given him credit for. 

The waiting seemed long to Alan in spite 
of his busy thoughts. The expression ‘liide- 
away” kept intruding. Why should they call 
running away “going to hideaway”? Was it 
141 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


an Eastern Shore expression? Or was it a 
place? And — but Fred couldn't be mistaken. 
It was hard to stay awake. The soft slap of 
water against the bow, the creak of footsteps 
overhead, the echoing murmur of the ghost 
of a voice from deck — ^that was all. He was 
just giving up the fight with sleep when 
something touched him on the arm. 

‘'Billy Peck has gone!” whispered Fred. 
“His bunk is empty. It's dark. I think they 
are going out. It's breezy. Take off your 
shoes and hang them round your neck. And 
keep close behind me! 

“We'll get the handles, slip overboard and 
make for the nearest island. They're getting 
ready to start now. If we're lucky they'll be 
miles away inside of an hour. Then we can 
either signal the police boat or maybe, if we 
can't do that, swim to the mainland in day- 
light.” 

His heart beating, Alan did as he was bid- 
den. It was pitch dark in the forehold, and 
142 


ESCAPE 


but little less when at last he crept after 
Fred into the chill of the deck. There was 
a hint of dawn in the air, but no sign of it. 
Alan guessed it to be about two or two-thirty 
in the morning. There was a stiff breeze, 
even under the lea of the island, and faint 
starlight. 

Softly muffled* voices came to him. He 
could hear the creak of pulley as sails were 
swung over and felt the lift as the Wasp paid 
off. Evidently they were going to “run for 
hideaway.’’ 

Alan followed Fred, creeping down the 
weather rail. Amidships they found the 
handles — long, slender oak rods, but suffi- 
cient to support a man’s weight in the water. 
Very softly, Fred picked up one and handed 
it to Alan. His voice Nvouldn’t have carried 
a foot as he breathed: “Don’t hold it up- 
right. Rope’s here.” 

Alan approached the dimly seen figure, 
stooping over as did Fred. Then, as silently 
143 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


as wraiths, both crept over the low rail and 
let themselves down, Alan first, into the cool 
water, let go the rope and dropped away from 
the Wasp — free! 

To Alan’s surprise it was less dark in the 
water than on board. He could see the shad- 
ow which was Fred’s head near him, and 
watched the Wasp glide off in the darkness, 
a dim ghost of a ship, with mingled feelings 
of wonder at his escape and gratitude that it 
had not been discovered. 

The Wasp was a hundred yards away 
when he spoke, very low, for sound carries 
on water and Alan knew it. 

“Now— what next?” was all he said. 

“Just paddle for the shore,” came Fred’s 
answer. “Gently, gently, don’t make any 
noise.” 

“You all right?” Alan whispered to Fred, 
remembering his companion could not swim 
and had not gone overboard without some 
trepidation. 


144 


ESCAPE 


'‘Yes, iPs easier than I thought,” came 
Fred's answer from behind him. "Don’t go 
too fast.” 

It was an eerie swim under the starlight, 
with the Wasp steadily sailing away from 
them, but Alan was so overjoyed at having 
made his escape that he found nothing suffi- 
ciently unusual in their odd position to worry 
him. "What a tale this will be to tell,” was 
constantly in his mind. To Alan it was as if 
the escape was an accomplished fact. Get- 
ting away from the Wasp had been the diffi- 
cult thing. Now that they were in the water 
and out of ear-shot of their enemies, it 
seemed that nothing could prevent their 
speedily getting safely back to the survey 
party. 

Aglow with the warmth of this thought he 
touched bottom a little later and turned to 
extend a hand to Fred, paddling slowly be- 
hind him. 

"It’s all right, I can touch,” he whispered. 

145 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘‘Let your feet down and don't forget the 
tong handles. We might need them." 

Not until Fred staggered up the muddy 
shore line under the dimly seen trees on the 
unknown island to which they had made their 
way, did Alan realize Fred's feelings were 
not an exact copy of his own. The white 
drawn face of his companion and the shaking 
hand which he held out for Alan's inspection 
told him that Fred was not happy. 

“Why, what's the matter?" he cried. 
“Aren't you glad to get safely away from the 

Waspr 

Fred nodded affirmatively. He did not 
speak for a moment and when he did Alan 
could notice that his voice was being very 
carefully controlled. 

“That was right hard. I didn't know I 
could be so scared over nothing." 

For a moment Alan did not understand. 
Then an ungrudging admiration rose in his 
heart and came from his lips. 

146 


ESCAPE 


^ ‘‘Why, Fred ! I didn’t know you were 
frightened. You didn’t show enough of it 
for a fellow to understand. I suppose it must 
have been pretty tough, not knowing how to 
swim and dropping overboard in the dark 
that way.” 

“Well, I didn’t intend to show any of it,” 
snapped Fred. “But you might as well know. 
I was scared to death. I couldn’t help won- 
dering whether those blamed tong handles 
were long enough and heavy enough to sup- 
port my weight and I didn’t have enough 
confidence in your swimming to think you 
could get me ashore if they didn’t.” 

“Well, it’s all over now,” said practical 
Alan, “and you did fine. Will you be as 
scared to-morrow if we have to swim to the 
mainland ?” 

“I suppose not,” answered Fred. “Hope 
not, anyway. But I’m hoping we won’t have 
to swim to the mainland. 1 figure the police 
boat will be standing to on the other side 
147 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


and that all weVe got to do is to wait there 
until daylight and then wave a shirt or some- 
thing to get them to come and pick us up.* 

It sounded simple enough. But the long 
wait before daylight proved more trying than 
either had anticipated. The water was warm 
and the night still held some hint of summer 
but it was only a little time before Fred and 
Alan, the warmth of excitement leaving 
them, found themselves shivering with the 
cold. The muddy beach on which they landed 
offered no shelter. In front was a dense 
thicket and tangle of underbrush through 
which grew tall trees. They made no at- 
tempt to enter it, fearing they knew not 
what, and had to content themselves with 
striding up and down, their wet shoes mak- 
ing a slosh-slosh, slosh-slosh in the mud, in 
a vain endeavor to keep comfortable. On 
the western side of the island, they had not 
even the comfort which a peek at the rosy 
flush in the east might have yielded. 

148 


ESCAPE 


They talked together instinctively in low 
tones, not that they had any further fear of 
the Wasp but because their situation was un- 
usual and they had no real knowledge of 
what strange ears might be hidden near by. 

‘Tor all we know this island may be in- 
habited,” warned Fred. ‘There may be an- 
other nest of oyster pirates within twenty 
feet of us. No use trying to imitate a brass 
band.” 

“I wish we had some fire. Fred, you 
haven't any matches, have you?” 

“Well, if I did have some, would you ex- 
pect to find them dry after that swim?” Alan 
could feel the sneer in Fred's voice, although 
he could not see his face. 

But Alan refused to let the tone worry 
him. He had never admired Fred more than 
how and he refused to allow that feeling to 
be over-ridden by any peevishness at Fred's 
present crossness. 

“Not unless you had them in a water-proof 
149 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


match-box,” he answered mildly. ''But how 
about making fire? I know Boy Scouts make 
fire with two pieces of wood and a string and 
IVe heard of savages rubbing sticks together 
and getting a blaze. Suppose we try it. It 
can’t do us any harm and it might keep us 
warm.” 

‘‘You haven’t any show of making fire 
with two sticks and a string and you know 
it. What’s the use of wasting strength? 
Seems to me you have less sense than any 
boy I ever knew !” 

But Alan only laughed. 

“I’m not going to quarrel with you, Fred 
Hammond, and you might just as well make 
up your mind to it. You can be as cross as 
two sticks — I don’t give a hoot. Any boy 
that got himself as scared as you did with as 
good reason as you did and showed as little 
of it as you did has a right to say anything 
he wants. Go to it, old chap ; be as snappish 
as you like. I don’t mind !” 

150 


ESCAPE 


And Fred had the grace to be ashamed and 
the manliness to say so. 

didn't mean to be cross. You're right 
white to take it that way. And what's more 
as soon as we can see our hands in front of 
our faces, if you want to try your fool fire 
stunt, I'll help you." 

This was a rather handsome apology on 
Fred's part and Alan took it as such. He 
said no more, but waited as patiently as he 
could, shivering, wet and cold, until the dawn 
had spread over the sky and he and his com- 
panion could get a good look at each other. 
When they did so they burst into simulta- 
neous if silent laughter. They had not real- 
ized the extent of the mud on the beach 
through which they had been tramping back 
and forth during the two-hour wait, or the 
amount of slime which had spattered upon 
them. 

“No painted warrior has anything on you,” 
laughed Alan, gesturing at Fred's face. “You 
151 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


look like the tattooed man from Borne^ only 
your tattoo is made out of green slime and 
seaweed/' 

wish you could see yourself," countered 
Fred. ‘‘You are my ideal of a Fiji islander.” 

“What I wish is that the boys at camp 
could see us now. Wouldn't they laugh?” 

Fred's face sobered. “I'm afraid they are 
worried to death and I suppose Captain 
Stamford is wild. If they've to]d our fami- 
lies I krtow one set of Hammonds that are 
having a pretty unhappy time.” 

Alan's brows knit at the thought. 

“Of course, my father is on the sea, going 
to the Philippines. But there is such a thing 
as wireless and I suppose he knows by this 
time. If your people are wild, in a position 
to help hunt for us, what do you suppose 
poor dad's thinking, somewhere out in the 
Pacific and knowing that I am in the hands 
of oyster pirates?” 

Neither lad had much time to give to the 
152 


ESCAPE 


disquieting thought. Family and father and 
friends were far away. Cold, a certain de- 
gree of hunger, and considerable weariness 
were in the immediate present, alleviated 
only by the wonderful thought of a completed 
escape. 

Hardly waiting for the sky to get bright 
enough to light their way, they debated rap- 
idly as to whether they should attempt to 
skirt the little island or strike through to the 
other side where they hoped to find the po- 
lice boat standing on and off. 

think we’d better go round,” was Fred’s 
judgment. “That underbrush looks pretty 
tough and our clothes won’t stand any too 
great a strain.” 

“Well, but how do you know how far it is?” 
objected Alan. “I’m not the freshest in the 
world and if it’s a very long tramp, we might 
be too tired to swim. Besides, we’ve got to 
take those rake handles, haven’t we?” 

“Certainly not,” answered Fred. “We can 
153 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


find branches with which to swim to the po- 
lice boat. Moreover, if we can signal her 
she’ll send a tender ashore. If you strike 
through these woods and get into a swamp 
or get caught in the bushes, then where are 
your 

“Seems to me it won’t do any harm to try. 
It isn’t so very bad. Look!” Alan walked 
forward and attempted to push his way 
through the bushes. It wasn’t so very hard 
and yet he found, after a few minutes’ prog- 
ress through the bushes which blocked his 
path, that he had cut out a heavy piece of 
work. However, he was confident he could 
manage it and had perhaps a little feeling 
in his heart that Fred was doing enough in 
managing their captivity without dictating 
their entire course. So he refused to come 
back at Fred’s repeated calls, but pushed 
steadily ahead. After a few moment’s inde- 
cision Fred followed. 

Luckily the underbrush became less dense 
154 


ESCAPE 


as they went forward and the island proved 
to be not more than a quarter of a mile wide. 
When in the now fully broken dawn they 
finally burst through the last confining 
bushes on the other side, both were thor- 
oughly exhausted, covered with scratches and 
each exhibited many rents in clothing. 

'"Welh never mind,” cried Alan, *‘it might 
have been better if we’d gone your way, but 
here we are. Now, where’s that police boat?” 


CHAPTER V 


BACK again! 

A ye, where indeed was the police boat? 

Scan the stretch of water which leveled 
itself away into a blue haze in the distance 
as they would, no sign of the white gasoline 
barge, as Bart had called it, was to be seen. 

‘‘Maybe she’s just standing off for a while. 
She’ll be back,” cried Fred confidently. 

“Well, she can’t come back any too quick 
for me,” responded Alan. “I’m hungry!” 

“You’re not the only one. I could even use 
some of the Wasp^s elaborate table. But 
what’s being hungry when we know we’ve 
escaped? She’ll be back in half an hour and 
our troubles will be over!” 

The beach was of a more sandy and firmer 
character on this side of the island than that 
on which they had landed and Alan proposed 
156 


BACK AGAIN 


that they walk along it in the hope of catch- 
ing sight of the police launch. The day 
promised to be beautiful and although both 
were almost dry from their exertions, the 
warm rays of the sun were nevertheless wel- 
come. They were ravenously hungry and 
well tired by the events of the night and the 
lack of sleep. Though neither would confess 
it, each had the feeling that if for any reason 
that police boat did not come back, they were 
indeed in desperate straits. 

For half an hour they sauntered slowly 
along the beach, making occasional detours 
into the woods to avoid muddy spots which 
had a quagmire appearance, saying little and 
keeping their eyes constantly turned to the 
water. 

As the morning passed, sail after sail made 
its appearance in the distance, but there was 
no sign of the boat on the presence of which 
they had set such high hopes. Neither would 
admit defeat and each comforted the other 
157 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


through the longest morning that either had 
ever spent. 

^*Oh, she’ll be along presently.” Fred tried 
to make his voice cheerful. ‘'She knows the 
Was'p must be around somewhere. Of course 
she has no knowledge that she slipped away 
at night and went down the bay. I’m sure 
she’ll stick to it. Perhaps she’s just cruising 
around among the other islands.” 

‘T think you’re right,” Alan answered, 
thinking nothing of the sort. “Maybe she’s 
dropped anchor some place near by to wait 
for the Wasp, and when she doesn’t find her, 
will sail back this way.” 

But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, 
one after the other abandoned hope. When 
Alan’s shadow lay a round spot of darkness 
around his feet and they knew that it was 
actually noon, they looked in each other’s 
faces and admitted the truth. 

“No use pretending any more, Fred. That 
police boat has gone and we’re left.” 

158 


BACK AGAIN 


“Right you are. Now the question is, will 
we try to signal one of those sail boats, or 
will we try to swim to the mainland 

“It doesn't seem as if there could be any 
question about that,” answered Alan, won- 
dering what was in Fred's mind. “We'll 
have to signal one of the boats. We don't 
know that there's anything to eat on the 
mainland, at least close to this island, and eat 
something I've got to pretty soon or there 
won't be any Alan McIntosh to bear you 
company!” The words were said with a 
smile but Alan's face was drawn with anx- 
iety. “Will you use your shirt, or will I take 
off mine?” 

“Well, wait a mkiute.” Fred sat down, as 
if weary. “You sure we want to risk getting 
on board another pirate? Suppose we suc- 
ceed in attracting attention from one of those 
sail boats. They are all oyster boats. We 
may get hold of one with a captain twice as 
bad as Briggs! If he finds two boys who 
159 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


canT account for the fact that they are on 
an island, smelling like oysters, with hands 
all calloused with oyster work, full of oyster 
cuts, won't he just guess we escaped from 
some oyster boat? If he guesses that, won't 
he just make us work for him exactly as 
Briggs did?" 

‘‘Sort of jumping out of the frying pan 
into the fire," mused Alan. 'Well, I sup- 
pose I could be hungrier, but I don't see 
how. You think we ought to go back and 
swim to the mainland?" 

"That's what. I hate to say it because I 
know you're tired and hungry, and so am I, 
but if we don't do it pretty soon we won't 
have strength to do it at all." 

This time it was Alan's time to command 
a wait. 

"Hold on, Fred. That sounds very nice, 
but we're not actually worn out, although we 
feel pretty badly. We can't afford to swim 
if we don't dare signal any of the oyster 
160 


BACK AGAIN 


boats. There may be some of the boats in 
the channel between here and the mainland. 
If we try to swim it they'll see us and capture 
us just the same as if we signaled. If we're 
going to swim, it's ^ot to be at night. All 
we have to do is to make up our minds to the 
fact that we don't eat until later. Let's for- 
get that we're hungry, and go lie down some- 
where and take a nap. I won't have much 
trouble sleeping if I can forget my stomach !" 

Fred nodded, soberly. guess you're 
right!" And incredible as it may seem, the 
boys wandered into the woods, made them- 
selves a little nest in the long grass, and in 
less than ten minutes were sound asleep. 
Mosquitoes buzzed about them, but they gave 
them no heed. Ants crawled up trousers 
legs and feasted at will upon tough young 
white flesh ; neither did more than moan and 
thresh about. Utterly worn out with their 
night up, their long swim, the exhausting 
cold, the tramp through the underbrush and 
161 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


the disappointment of not finding the police 
boat, both slept the healthy sleep of ex- 
hausted youth, nor wakened until the sun 
had disappeared over the trees and the 
shadows died away into complete shade. 

Alan was the first to awaken. He sat up 
suddenly, frightened at he knew not what, 
and gazed about rather wildly. He dreamed 
he was on the Wasp, and to wake up expect- 
ing to be in the confined, smelly little fore- 
castle and to find overhead only an interlac- 
ing tracery of branches against a darkening 
sky in which one or two stars shone faintly 
was disconcerting. But he had small thought 
to give his surroundings. Memory engulfed 
him in a wave of anxiety. His muscles were 
sore and he had a kink in his back soon ex- 
plained by the discovery that he had been 
sleeping upon the edge of a sharp stone. 

‘‘Oh — ouch!” Alan arose painfully. “This 
may be a fine tale to tell somebody some day 
but just now I wish I had never become a 
162 


BACK AGAIN 


piratical adventurer! Fred, you lazy oyster- 
dredger, wake up!” Alan leaned over and 
shook his companion gently by the arm ex- 
pecting an instant response. But Fred, 
sleeping heavily, only twitched slightly. 

Alan sat down again and regarded his 
companion amusedly. In spite of the pains 
and aches which beset him, the hunger which 
gripped his stomach as a vise and the anxiety 
for what was to come, he found something 
funny in their situation. 

'It’s a shame to wake him !” he mused. "I 
dare say he is nicely at home in a dissecting 
room cutting things to pieces and having a 
perfectly splendid time. I never saw him 
asleep before. He has a nice face. If he’d 
only keep that stern look off it and if his 
voice didn’t belie his eyes so much. Funny 
how different he’s been from what I ex- 
pected. I know a lot of boys I’d rather not 
have here, anyhow. Well, I hate to do it, old 
chap, but it’s getting dark and we’re not 
163 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


getting any less hungry by sitting round. 
Fred, wake up !” 

This time Alan abandoned gentle methods, 
taking his companion by both shoulders and 
shaking him. Fred's eyes opened slowly and 
he, in turn, looked about him bewildered. 
But he was quicker than Alan to get his 
senses and scrambled to his feet almost at 
once. 

‘‘You don't happen to have a beefsteak 
concealed anywhere, do you?^' was his first 
question. 

“No,” answered Alan politely, taking his 
cue from Fred, “only some Lyonnaise pota- 
toes and an apple pie.” 

Fred grinned. Then he laid his hand on 
Alan's shoulder and Alan was startled at his 
speech, so closely echoing his thoughts. 

“I don't choose this sort of a life, Alan 
McIntosh,” announced Fred decisively, “but 
if I've got it to do, I'd as soon have a boy 
who can joke at the end of twenty-four hours 
164 


BACK AGAIN 


like these as anybody I know. Guess we’d 
better hike back through the woods to the 
other shore, hadn’t we?” 

The words heartened Alan like wine. For 
a time he forgot the gnawing hunger pain. 
He fought his way back through the woods, 
regardless of the scratching branches, to the 
tune of, ‘‘Fred’s changed his opinion about 
the city chap ! I guess I’ve changed my opin- 
ion about the country bumpkin, too. It’s an 
ill wind that blows nobody good !” 

When they broke through the underbrush 
on the mainland side of the island, it was 
quite dark. The moon had not yet risen and 
a myriad of kindly stars winked encourage- 
ment to the two young oyster pirates in the 
venture on which they were about to engage. 
For adventure it was to them both, to Alan 
because of the strangeness of their situation 
and danger which accompanied the idea of a 
night swim across to the mainland ; to Fred, 
because only a pair of oyster tong handles 
165 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


and what slight strength Alan might be able 
to spare stood between him and a watery 
grave. But Alan was quick to note that Fred 
gave no hint in his manner of any fear and 
liked him the more for it. Indeed, it was 
Fred who urged haste. 

‘‘Come on, Alan,” he cried, “let’s get the 
tong handles. They’re not over a hundred 
yards from here. We’ll get no stronger 
standing around. That swim will be cold 
work.” 

“Right-0 !” answered Alan. “Now, see 
here. We’ll make better progress if we put 
those handles side by side and one of us gets 
at onq end and one at the other. Then we 
can both support our weight with our hands 
and kick with our legs and paddle across that 
way. I’ll take the rear and then if you — I 
mean, if you — I mean — ” 

“I know what you mean. Don’t be mealy- 
mouthed about it. If I give out, or get scared 
and give up, you’ll be where you can catch 
166 


BACK AGAIN 


me. But I won't get any more scared than 
I am now. It's true that I am frightened 
but I can go through with it." 

Alan nodded, glad his awkward speech 
had done no damage. He had no idea of ac- 
cusing Fred of cowardice. On the contrary, 
Alan admired his courage, knowing the rea- 
son for his fear. Not yet well acquainted 
with Fred's mental processes he feared what 
he had said might give offense, and was re- 
assured at the smile on Fred's face as he 
picked up the handles. 

wonder what Briggs will say when he 
finds his best tong handles gone. I'd like 
to be there to see — in an air-ship." 

'^Unless it's in prison, I don't care if I 
never see him again," responded Alan. ‘'Let's 
get at it!" 

The boys waded into the cool water, shiv- 
ering, until it was up to Fred's neck. Fred 
laid the handles side by side and put a hand 
on each, dipping down until only his head 
167 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


was out of the water. Alan did likewise at 
the rear and shoved gently off. In a moment 
their feet left bottom. 

‘‘Get your head lower, Fred!” called Alan. 
“The lower it is in the water, the easier it is 
to support. There are no waves, and if a 
little does wash into your mouth, it won’t 
hurt you.” 

There was a moment’s hesitation and then 
Fred’s head sank lower and lower and again 
Alan had a thrill of admiration for the cour- 
age of the lad who could not swim, who so 
blindly obeyed instructions. 

“All right, now ! Kick strong but not fast. 
It isn’t a long swim and these poles are 
plenty heavy enough to hold us up. Will I 
count aloud or will you?” 

“You — ^better — count,” came back, rather 
gaspingly, from Fred. “I haven’t — ^any — 
breath — ^to spare.” 

“Well, I don’t know as I have so much.” 
Alan told his white lie as consistently as he 
168 


BACK AGAIN 


could. *'But I'll try it for a while." So he 
counted aloud : ‘‘One — ^two — ^three — four — 
one — ^two — ^three — four — one — ^two — ^three — 
four — ^That's it, Fred, kick out hard — One — 
two — ^three — four — We*ye done a hundred 
feet already. One — ^two — ^three — four — Don’t 
work too hard, we’ve got all night! One — 
two — three — ^four — ’’ 

It was breathless work even for Alan. But 
he did not spare himself. To cease the 
friendly calling to his companion ahead he 
felt would be to fail in a real need. Jle knew 
how much it must mean to the boy who could 
not swim. 

Alan had no fear of not reaching the main- 
land. He felt he had strength enough to 
swim it without the poles. He was com- 
forted with that fearlessness of water which 
comes with knowing how to swim. But when 
he judged they had gone half-way he called 
a halt. 

“Wait a minute, Fred! I’m going to stop 
169 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


swimming now and I want you to rest, too. 
Lie quiet in the water, holding to the pole 
and rest yourself for a minute or two. WeVe 
got plenty of time. How are you feeling, any- 
how 

To Alan’s pleasure the voice which came 
back to him was full and strong, if somewhat 
slow. 

‘Teeling all right, thank you, but a little 
chilly!” 

‘‘You’re feet aren’t cold anyhow.” Alan 
hoped to get a laugh out of Fred. 

“Maybe not — thanks to you.” 

“Nonsense,” answered Alan. “Come on, if 
you’re rested enough ! Let’s go ahead I” 

But his hair rose. Out of the night came 
a well-hated voice. 

“I guess you won’t go ahead much,” floated 
across the water, with a laugh, “except just 
far enough to come in here !” 

And Billy Peck in the tender, loomed out 
of the darkness behind him, and Bart’s big 
170 


BACK AGAIN 


hand reached down and caught him by the 
collar. 

*‘SoI” he cried, and there was a laugh in 
his voice. “Been taking a leetle swim ? Billy 
Peck, you got the other one?” 

“Duck, Fred, and swim for it !” called Alan 
clearly as he was dragged into the tender, but 
realized even as he spoke that it was useless. 
Fred could not duck away from the friendly 
pole — Fred could not swim ! 

“Here I am!” called Fred, from the other 
side of the boat. “If they've got you, Alan, 
I'll come!” 

“You bet you'll come!” And Billy Peck's 
voice was triumphant. “Thought ye'd get 
away with it, did ye? Well, you city fellers 
is mighty smart! But you've got to get up 
earlier than this if you are going to get 
ahead of us — and you'll go back in irons as 
mutineers should, too !” 

And the rest of what Billy Peck said is 
not printable. 


171 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Shivering with cold and wet, now that the 
excitement was over, Fred and Alan, their 
hands bound with rope, sat miserably side 
by side, as the “crew” of two — for Billy Peck 
and Bart were in the tender — rowed leisure- 
ly toward what was, to the boys, an un- 
known destination. 

“How did you know we had gone?” Fred 
asked listlessly of Bart. 

“IPs Billy Peck, here. He knew, some- 
how !” evaded Bart, grunting over his oar. 

“I might have known it !” commented Alan, 
aloud and bitterly. “Always Billy Peck!” 

“Told ye to watch out I” crowed Billy Peck. 
“And next time you go to run away, make 
sure Billy Peck is on deck when you think 
he is! I was under your bunk the whole 
time !” And he laughed aloud at Fred, sens- 
ing, if he could not see, the chagrin on his 
face. “I just thought maybe this looked 
like a good chance to ye ! And oh, what the 
old man is a-goin’ to do — umph!” 

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BACK AGAIN 


Alan felt a wave of thankfulness. At least 
Fred could not blame him for this. If Fred 
had been overheard after saying that Billy 
Peck was on deck, that was Fred’s fault. Not 
that he would blame Fred. Fred had done 
his best. He did not want to say so before 
the men. But he nudged over toward him, 
and set his foot on Fred’s pressing it gently. 
There was no response. 

''But if he knew we were going to escape,” 
cried Alan suddenly, ‘'why did he let us do 
it? Why didn’t he stop us right then and 
there?” 

"I don’t know. Why didn’t you, Billy 
Peck?” answered Bart. 

Billy Peck chuckled. "I told ye ^I’d get 
even with ye, sometime,” to Alan, "and this 
was just my little scheme. I knew the police 
boat would think the Wasp was going down 
the bay. You all didn’t know th’ Wasp was 
just going to go in and out among the islands. 
I knew ye’d make for one of ’em, hoping to 
173 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


be picked up. So when I told Captain Briggs 
ye’d gone he knew just where he could put 
his hands on you! He said it’d do ye good 
to stay out all night and get hungry. Oh, 
we never had no doubt we’d find ye, and we 
been waiting out here for ye to try to swim 
to the mainland. Have anything to eat on 
that island? Maybe it hasn’t been fun bear- 
in’ ye talk. One — two — ^three — four, one — 
two — three — four,” he mocked Alan’s friend- 
ly call to Fred. 

Chagrined at the explanation, Alan re- 
flected that after all it had been Fred’s plan, 
and that if any one was to blame it must be 
Fred for not having made sure their plans 
for escape were not overheard. 

As the moon came up, Fred’s outline grew 
clearer to Alan’s eyes. It was that of a very 
discouraged and weary lad; Alan wondered 
if he presented so dejected an appearance. 
But he had small time to give to considering 
how they looked. In the rising moonlight 


BACK AGAIN 


Alan could see the shore line and found time 
to wonder where they were going. They 
seemed very close in. Suddenly; as they 
rounded a curve he saw a ship before them — 
a two-masted ship — a familiar ship — in fact, 
the Wasp, 

“Sailed clean around and got in here!” 
commented Fred, wonderingly. “She sure 
is hidden!” 

“She sure is! That’s what we call it — 
Hideaway. We knew if we ever got here, no 
police boat could find us; But we dassen’t 
go in while it was very light. It’s too good a 
hiding-place to risk being seen going into. 
Now he can hunt till he’s blind-^but he will 
never find us. We’ve been here before apd 
know just how safe it is!” 

Alan realized it was true. A tiny cove, the 
entrance so narrow the seamanship which 
sailed the Wasp in made him mingle wonder- 
ment and admiration, surrounded by tall 
trees, the Wasp was as securely sequestered 
175 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


from a police boat as if in dry dock. ‘'Run- 
ning for hideaway’’ didn’t mean what Fred 
had thought it meant at all. 

But neither lad had much time to think 
about the mistakes which had been made and 
the escape which had not. They were hailed 
from the Wasp and Cap’n Briggs looked over 
the rail as Bart brought the tender skilfully 
alongside. 

“Well, well, well !” he boomed, his red hair 
standing up straight, his little eyes twinkling. 
“So ye came back! Like it, staying out all 
night? Have a nice swim? Cold, are ye? 
Well, get aboard, get aboard! I’ve that will 
warm ye !” 

There seemed to Alan to be a threat in the 
tone, but he didn’t care much. The sleepless 
night, followed by the swim, the long cold 
wait, the difficulty in getting through the 
underbrush, the disappointment in not find- 
ing the police boat, the absence of food, the 
excitement, their fresh wetting, the hopeful 
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BACK AGAIN 


swim toward the shore, their recapture and 
the long row in the chilly September air, wet 
to the skin, made him too miserable to dread 
the future. 

As it turned *out there was no cause to 
feel frightened. To Billy Peck’s evident dis- 
gust, Cap’n Briggs, so pleased at having es- 
caped the police boat, chose to look upon the 
‘‘escape” rather as a joke, on the boys than 
any very heinous crime. The fact that both 
the tong handles had been recovered perhaps 
added to his good humor. 

As soon as he heard Cap’n Briggs’ voice 
Fred spoke quickly. “Yes, we wanted to 
swim, but we brought back our life pre- 
servers,” picking up the handles and show- 
ing them in the growing light. 

“Good for ye that ye did! Ye are some 
ways off from not needing ’em, yet !” 

And that was all he said then. 

Alan and Fred had no dry clothes. But 
they were permitted to hang their wet ones 
177 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


near the galley fire, and to snuggle into the 
mess of bedding until breakfast, by which 
time they were pretty well dried out. 

And how good that breakfast -did taste! 
For once neither lad found anything to criti- 
cize in the coarse fare. They ate and ate, as 
if they could never get enough. 

After breakfast Alan felt in his bunk — 
yes, the little camera and films were still 
there. He had not liked to leave them but 
there seemed no sense taking them into the 
water with him. His watch was ruined — ^he 
had forgotten to take that off. Fred had 
wrapped his in a bit of tarred rag and kept 
it dry. 

But Alan was not interested in his watch 
or camera, either. He was sleepy and tired, 
and the fact that he later had to get up, cook 
the midday meal, wash the dishes and then, 
with Fred, labor at the oars while Billy Peck 
directed the towing of the Wasp to a better 
anchorage, did not make him feel any the 
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BACK AGAIN 


spryer. When the day in the cove was ended 
he was thoroughly exhausted and Fred was 
not in much better shape. 

They were in no condition then, to resist 
either by voice or deeds when, at bunk time, 
Billy Peck came to thetn both with a rope. 

won^t take a swim to-night!” he cried, 
evidently relishing his task. ‘‘Cap'n Briggs 
says I’d better hobble you birds!” 

And hobble them he did, with a tight set 
of knots, none too gently tied, each lad with 
his hands in front of him. 

‘‘Now — go to bunk!” he ended, nearly up- 
setting Alan with a rough shove. 

Alan looked him straight in the face as he 
brought up with a bang against the edge of 
his bunk. 

“You didn’t do any shoving when I had a 
club over you!” he cried clearly. “But of 
course your skin is quite safe when I am 
tied!” 

Billy Peck gasped. His face in the dim 
179 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


lantern light grew animal like with anger. 
But Alan, contemptuous of the cowardly little 
deed, first looked him square in the eyes — . 
and then turned his back. 

Billy Peck made no answer aloud. He 
stumped up on deck, muttering. And much 
to Alan’s surprise, Fred made no comment. 

But if Billy Peck thought that either tied 
hands or rough treatment would keep Alan 
awake he was mistaken. In five minutes, 
sore-hearted though he was, Alan was in 
slumber land, and Fred confessed later to the 
same hardihood. And both were resentful 
when awakened in the dawn of a new day 
by Sam cutting their bonds hurriedly. 

‘‘Storm coming — up ye get!” he cried 
loudly. “Cap’n wants all hands — ” 

They scrambled on deck. Alan’s hands 
were numb and he rubbed them hard in 
spite of the pain. Fred was swinging his 
arms and massaging a puffed wrist. During 
the night the Wasp had sailed away from 
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BACK AGAIN 


‘‘Hideaway” and was far down the bay. 
There was neither any other oyster boat nor 
any police boat in sight. And in the north- 
west was an angry looking clump of black 
clouds, which not even the brilliant sun just 
coming up could soften. 

Orders flew thick and fast. 

“Hi — Bart — Sam! Get at that mainsail 
down haul, quick! Billy Peck, get ready to 
reef the jib! You Mac! Fred! That fore- 
sail’s coming down in a minute. Stand by! 
No time to wait if ye all don’t want a swim. 
By the looks of that cloud, tong handles 
won’t be no good to hold ye up !” 

Obedient to Captain Briggs’ call, the little 
crew worked willingly enough — ^all could see 
the cloud held a real menace. The mainsail 
was hauled down and stowed. The one jib 
was reefed down to the last set of points. 
Then the foresail was tackled. Alan and 
Fred worked side by side with the men, Bart 
swearing and hurrying, Sam loudly com- 
181 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


manding Billy Peck to ‘‘Hump-hump — she'll 
break in a minute,” and Cap'n Briggs at the 
wheel in great excitement exhorting them 
to work hard. Neither lad understood what 
was to happen — but both knew better than 
to argue. This was not play, whatever else 
it might be. 

But they understood in a moment. With 
no warning, without even a preliminary puff, 
the wind hit them — ^hit them as if with some 
giant sledge hammer — ^hit them a mighty 
blow which heeled the Was'p over as if it was 
a cat boat and made Alan and Fred cling to 
stays for very life. Over, over, over she 
heeled, and the boom of the not yet secured 
foresail swung far outboard and dipped down 
into the angry water already hissing with the 
waves that couldn't rise, as the wind whirled 
the foam about. For a* moment the air was 
filled with cries of rage and of fear — ^then, 
slowly, the Wasp righted. 

Alan had just time to make out Cap'n 
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Briggs* relieved hail, '"Here she conies, boys 
— all right now ! Just one big puff and then 
the breeze — and to sense that this was one 
of those peculiar squalls for which Chesa- 
peake Bay is famous, and in which, if a ship 
lives through the first few minutes she is 
probably safe, when he saw that which made 
his hair rise. As the boat came back to an 
even keel, the boom, pendulum-like, swung 
the other way. Billy Peck started to cross 
the deck. He darted toward the stern, ap- 
parently not seeing the boom. Alan caught 
his breath — ^then yelled — ^yelled loudly, a 
scream more than a call, instinctively, with 
the desire to save an accident, perhaps life. 
But it was of no avail. 

Billy Peck heard, and hearing, turned. 
There was one frightened glance, a 
raised and warning arm, a cry of fear, high 
and shrill. Even in that tense moment it 
seemed to Alan to be singularly like the 
squeal of a trapped rat. Then the heavy 
183 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


boom, resistless, powerful, inanimately ani- 
mate with force, swung through its arc, 
struck Billy Peck such a blow as a baseball 
bat might strike a small snake — and Billy 
Peck disappeared. 

There was an instant in which the roar 
of the wind swept through the rigging like 
a requiem to Alan’s ears. Then, with a shake, 
he tore his jacket from him. With a leap 
he was across the deck, and, in a clean dive, 
over the side and into the smother of foam 
that hissed beneath the rail. 


CHAPTER VI 


ALAN'S REVENGE 

A LAN’S action was instinctive, without 
conscious thought or determination. 
Billy Peck was overboard, undoubtedly in- 
jured by the swinging boom, in grave danger 
of losing his life. Alan precipitated himself 
after him without any mental processes — 
the ingrained desire to save life, so strong 
in every one, acting before his brain could 
think. 

It seemed a long while to Alan before he 
struck the water. He could see the boil of the 
foam and hear the hiss of the wind. Tiny 
details stood out with odd distinctness — the 
curious shape of an oyster on the deck be^ 
neath his eyes, the worn paint on the side 
of the Wasp, the green of the water, the 
little collection of bubbles directly beneath 
185 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


him, a red smear on their yellow whiteness 
which might be blood — all came beneath his 
eyes and were noted, speculated upon, passed 
by and forgotten as non-essentials. 

Thoughts of the adventure, of the time he 
had passed, and of the immediate present and 
of the future crowded his mind. Billy Peck, 
his tormentor, was overboard. He was re- 
turning good for evil. He had not done it 
for that reason. He would do it again. He 
hoped he would succeed. Of course the first 
thing to do was to find Billy Peck. There 
was no head in sight. He looked around to 
see as he fell toward the water. It was a 
long dive. Curious how much thought there 
could be in what actually must be but an in- 
stant. Fred would be worried. Fred would 
have dived if Fred could swim. But he 
couldn’t. Neither could Billy Peck. But it 
would make no difference if he could — ^that 
solid crack of boom against head would have 
knocked out any one. A knocked-out man 
186 


ALAN^S REVENGE 


can not swim. If he didn’t find Billy Peck he 
would drown. If he did find him — well, 
maybe they would both drown. It was a 
severe squall. The Wasp was under way. He 
couldn’t swim very well himself. But of 
course the Wasp would heave to right away. 
Cap’n Briggs wouldn’t let them drown. He 
^there! The water at last. 

• The peculiar psychological condition of 
much swift thought in a tiny interval of 
time, stretching the moment to many min- 
utes, passed with the shock of the water. 
Alan went under gasping and came up blow- 
ing the foam from his face. He was not at 
all frightened and smiled to himself at the 
fact, rather pleased that he was so self-con- 
tained. He revolved swiftly to see if Billy 
Peck was within reach. As he struck out, 
his hand caught something — ^hair. He gripped 
it tight, reached with his other hand, and 
had Billy Peck’s head in his arms. 

‘‘Good! Got him. Now — get behind— > 
187 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


head down — ” Memories of life-saving les- 
sons from O'Reilly, the swimming teacher 
in school, came to him. He turned Billy Peck, 
unconscious and unresisting, on his back, 
reaching under his left arm with his own 
left hand and grabbing Billy Peck's right 
wrist. He threw himself backward, kick- 
ing out with his feet and swimming on his 
back with his free hand. He swam slowly to 
conserve his strength. 

There was no use yelling. They must have 
seen, on the Wasp, And if they hadn't, no 
cry he could make would be heard above the 
howl of the wind. So Alan swam quietly, 
thankful that the wind beat down the water, 
and minding the stinging sprays which 
whipped him in the face but little. 

Billy Peck’s head was cut — ^he could see 
the red stain constantly renewed even as the 
water washed it away. Billy Peck’s face was 
quiet and placid. There was no breath that 
Alan could distinguish but he was sure Billy 
188 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


Peck had not been under long enough to 
drown. 

“It seemed long — but it hasn’t been a min- 
ute since I went over — and I doubt he took 
one breath under water!” thought Alan 
rapidly. 

He paddled slowly in a circle, so as to 
bring the fast retreating Wasp in view. To 
his dismay she looked very small — indeed, too 
small! 

“Oh!” Alan cried aloud, anxiety for the 
first time taking him. “Oh! She can’t be 
going to leave us — she can't be !” Then, not 
thinking that if his voice wouldn’t carry be- 
fore, it certainly wouldn’t now, he raised his 
head and sent a cry echoing through the 
wind. 

*‘Wasp, ahoy! Help — Help! Fred — Fred! 
Help— Fred!” 

But it only took his breath, already short, 
and made it the more difficult to keep afloat 
with the sodden helpless figure on his breast, 
189 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


the limp head lolling backward on his shoul- 
der. The water, stirred to flying spray by 
the wind, though beaten down from waves, 
sloshed angrily over his head — and Billy 
Peck’s head. Alan, frightened now for both, 
had all he could do to hold the unconscious 
figure so that it would not choke with this 
water — ‘Tf he is alive!” cried Alan aloud, 
though there was none to hear. 

But the flying Wasp was his foremost 
thought. Like jagged lightning through 
dark clouds ran new thoughts — ugly 
thoughts, monstrous thoughts, thoughts not 
normal to him. He recalled all that Fred had 
said — all that he had hinted of the real mur- 
derous character of Cap’n Briggs and oyster 
pirates; recalled tones and looks he had 
glossed over or ignored ; recalled the fury he 
had seen in Cap’n Briggs’ face and the mad 
anger in his voice and suddenly found it not 
so unthinkable that, rather than put the 
Wasp about in the wind and risk it, Cap’u 
190 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


Briggs might well leave a helpless man and a 
captured one to make their losing fight un- 
helped, and claim an act of God when he at 
last made port without those who had so 
summarily left his decks. 

But with the anger, the red-blooded, right- 
eous anger that comes to any right-minded 
person at horrible injustice and needless 
cruelty, came also hope. 

'‘No!” he cried, but softly that he might 
not waste breath. "No! Murderer Briggs 
may be, but Fred will never let us stay here 
to drown — Fred will never — Ah !” 

The Wasp was turning. Alan was right. 
She turned completely, drew up, all standing, 
foresail shaking, into the wind’s eye — the 
wind already rapidly going down. Figures 
sprang to her rail and Alan could translate 
their motions, even from the distorted and 
fore-shortened perspective which was his 
with his eyes awash in the foaming water. 
Now they were hauling up the tender. Now 
191 


i 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


they were getting in— two of them. Now 
they were pushing off. Now the oars were 
out — and — one — two — three — four. One — 
two — ^three — four. Slowly, but surely and 
evenly, the sweeps pushed the little tender 
closer and closer. 

Alan was short of breath now. His chest 
rose and fell in great gasps. His arm was 
tired. And his legs — what was the matter 
with his legs? Why were they so numb? Did 
one’s legs go to sleep in the water? No mat- 
ter — ^they would soon be here. Billy Peck — 
was he numb, too? He hadn’t stirred. The 
pinkish tinge to the water which swept them 
both now, as Alan’s feebler strength let them 
sink lower, still continued. Poor Billy Peck! 
So strong — ^so able — and so mean, so vicious. 
Without opportunity, without education, 
without a chance, was it any wonder — 

‘‘Here! That won’t do! Almost under. 
Oh, why don’t they come? Why, why?” 

At first Alan’s anger and contemptuous 
192 


ALAN^S REVENGE 


disgust of the cowardly desertion, later his 
relief at finding that they were to be rescued, 
had occupied his mind to the exclusion of 
thought of the apparently lifeless body in his 
arms. But now his thoughts centered on 
Billy Peck, with a sudden feeling of pity. 
There was a curious intrusion, too, of a mem- 
ory of the scheme that had failed, of the long 
day on the beach and the sleep in the woods, 
the attempted swim to the mainland, so 
rudely interrupted by Billy Peck. Always 
Billy Peck — Billy Peck who had dogged their 
footsteps, tortured both their wearied bodies 
and their minds, bedeviled and tormented 
them! Even in the water, struggling with 
failing strength to save his companion’s life, 
it seemed to Alan as a just retribution. But 
with the ungenerous thought came fresh de- 
termination. 

“He shan^t drown ! I won’t let him ! I will 
stay up!” he cried to himself, and took a 
fresh grip upon his waning strength and 
193 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


shifted the helpless body until it rested a lit- 
tle higher in the water. ‘'But if they don't 
come pretty soon, I'm afraid I can't keep up. 
Oh, why don't they come? Why? Why?" 

Didn't they know he wasn't able to tread 
water indefinitely? Couldn't they see he was 
almost exhausted? He wasn't much of a 
swimmer — ^not much of a swimmer — ^he was 
doing his best. It didn't matter much, any- 
way. Drowning wasn't half so disagreeable 
as it sounded. You went over all excited, 
but you calmed down. And the water wasn't 
cold. It was rather pleasant. But it was 
too bad, when the boat was right there. He 
could see it. He couldn't recognize those in 
it. He didn't care who they were — 

Feebly he held up an arm, to guide them. 
Then, as hands swept Billy Peck from him, 
and excited shoutings filled the air, Alan gave 
a little sigh and sank away. He was too tired 
to climb in the boat. It was good to get rid 
of that limp body. He was very tired. He 
194 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


would just sink down on the -bottom and rest 
a while. When he was rested, then — well, 
he couldn’t decide what he would do when he 
was rested. The water was close and warm, 
like a coverlet. He was — so tired. He was 
so — tired ! 

Alan awoke to a disagreeable consciousness 
that he felt very, very badly and was ex- 
tremely sick. Also he was very uncomfort- 
able. For some one had him by a rope around 
his waist and was jouncing him. Also some 
one else was shouting in his ear. And the 
water — no, the deck — was very hard and 
rough, and he was cold. 

— I — don*tr he cried. ‘T — let me 

alone — r” 

There was an answering yell. He was 
dropped on the deck, whirled over, and picked 
up and set on his feet. A mist passed from 
his eyes. Two huge masts, gyrating against 
a sky through which the sun was breaking, 
195 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


steadied to their places. Some one was hang- 
ing on to his arm and shouting at him'. 

‘"Yes — ^yes,” he wavered. ‘^Yes — Fred. 
Pm all right. Is Billy Peck — oh, I’m so 
sickr 

But sickness which comes from swallowing 
too much salt water doesn’t last very long 
in a.healthy, hearty, hungry boy. And it was 
not long before Alan was swallowing some 
very strong, black, but gratefully hot tea, and 
leaning against Fred, who sat beside him. 

‘Tell me,” he said as soon as he could 
speak. “Billy Peck?” 

“He’s alive!” Fred’s voice was a snarl. 
“He’s breathing. They’ve got him — over 
there I” 

Alan struggled, wabbling, to his feet. But 
Fred protested. 

“Don’t bother with him! Sit here until 
you get better. That was a close shave, Alan 
— ^you were just about all in when we got 
there — ” 


196 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


didn’t know when you got me!” And 
Alan laughed. ‘‘I was just goiilg down to 
the bottom to rest. I — oh, suffering cats! 
but I feel rotten !” 

But he staggered off across the deck and 
into the little group — Bart sitting, Billy 
Peck’s head on his knees, Sam with a pot of 
tea trying to force some down the uncon- 
scious lad’s throat, while Cap’n Briggs, his 
eyes hard, stood looking at the scene as if he 
found it anything but pleasant. 

“If I only knew something — I don’t know 
— I don’t know !” And Sam’s gruff voice was 
hoarse with pity and anxiety. Alan looked 
at him in surprise. It came as a shock to 
think this rough uncouth man should care 
for the sufferings of Billy Peck. 

“Fred knows — he’s a doctor — I mean, he’s 
going to be !” Alan cried. Then, not waiting 
for an answer, called across the deck to Fred. 

“Come here, Fred. Here’s a patient that 
needs you — ” 


197 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Fred rose, stood undecided, then walked 
to the rail. Thinking he hadn’t heard, Alan 
wabbled over to him. 

‘‘Come on, Fred — ^we need your help !” He 
tugged at the 'arm nearest him. 

And* then he saw Fred’s face. Alan fell 
back amazed. Dark, lowering, angry, it 
stared at him. 

“I won’t !” The words were low but fierce. 
“Let him die ! He bullied you and tormented 
me. And they only wanted him to live be- 
cause he’s a hand! You don’t know!” he 
went on wildly, in defense of the accusation 
he saw in Alan’s eyes. “Cap’n Briggs didn’t 
want to heave to! Said it would endanger 
the ship. It was Sam who told him we 
couldn’t work if you twtf were lost — ^that’s 
the only reason he did it ! Beasts — ^beasts— 
beasts, all of them! I wouldn’t lift a finger 
for—” 

“Stop it !” And Alan was surprised at the 
command in his own voice. “For shame — for 
198 


ALAN^S REVENGE 


shame ! And you studying to be a doctor — . 
a man sworn to the service of the suffering! 
For shame! Come this instant and do what 
you can!” 

There was a quality of determination in 
Alan’s tone which brooked no delay. And 
there was unexpected strength in the hold he 
had on Fred’s arm. And Fred, with a deep 
flush and a shamed glance, left the rail and 
came. 

But Fred didn’t do things by halves. He 
scattered Bart and Sam to different parts of 
the schooner, one for water, the other for 
cloth. He laid Billy Peck’s head down on the 
deck and with his knife slit the clothes from 
the upper part of the body. There was an 
unnatural twist to a shoulder which Fred 
recognized at once. It was only a dislocation, 
but it was swelling. Fred took off his shoe, 
sat down on the deck, put one stockinged foot 
under Billy Peck’s arm pit and pulled. There 
was a sharp ‘^crack,” a moan from the blue 
199 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


lips and the shoulder looked natural again. 
Then he bound up the bad cut on the top of 
the head where the boom had struck it, and 
bathed the forehead in cold water. And pres- 
ently Billy Peck’s blue eyes opened, first in 
a baby-like stare, then in a sudden contrac- 
tion of pain. 

But he did not speak. 

‘‘Suffering from shock !” pronounced Fred. 
“Better put him in his bunk for a while. 
What he needs is rest. And you better go 
there, too,” to Alan, “or you’ll keel over 
directly. And you’d better — ” 

“Here !” cut in Cap’n Briggs roughly. 
“Who’s captain of this schooner, hey? Billy 
Peck’ll be all right in a few minutes. I got 
to have him to work the ship. The bantam 
can stay on deck and haul if he can’t do noth- 
ing else. All hands now — get those sails up 
and, Sam, you get to the wheel — ” 

With murmuring voices, Sam and Bart 
obeyed. But Fred continued to kneel over 
200 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


the but semi-conscious Billy Peck and Alan 
felt still too weak to care much what hap- 
pened. It was only when Bart took him by 
the arm and put a rope in his hands that he 
drew his eyes away from the tormentor upon 
whom he had worked so sweet a revenge and 
obeyed the rapid orders of Cap’n Briggs. 

But when sail was made on the Wasp and 
she stood off on a tack again, with a stiff but 
not dangerous breeze, all that was left of the 
sudden squall making her carry a bone in 
her teeth, Alan sat down, his head in his 
hands. Nor did he make any move to get 
up when Cap’n Briggs stood over him and 
ordered him to go to the galley. 

“Billy Peck can’t cook to-day — you’re 
cook!” he said. “But Billy will be ready to 
cook supper or — or I’ll set him ashore and 
he can walk home! Nothing but make- 
believe. He’s all right.” 

Alan didn’t answer. But Bart, passing, 
spoke up suddenly. 


/ 


201 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


cook for ye!” he said shortly. ‘'He’s 

all in!” 

“What?” roared Cap’n Briggs. “Who’s 
cap’n here? Better look out, Bart — ” 

Alan struggled to his feet. “I’ll cook — * 
if I can,” he stammered weakly. “But Billy 
Peck — you can’t set Billy Peck ashore until 
he’s right again.” 

“And he won’t be right unless he gets some 
care!” interrupted Fred, striding up. “He’s 
suffering from shock. He’s got to be carried 
into his bunk, and he’s to have some warm 
dry clothes on, and some hot cloths and he’s 
got to be rubbed, and what’s more he’s got 
to have some oyster broth.” 

“What’s that?” demanded Captain Briggs 
in amazement. “Oyster broth? Ain’t ye 
learned yet we take oysters to sell, not to 
cook?” 

“I’ve learned a whole lot of things,” cried 
Fred, looking Captain Briggs in the eye. 
“One of them is the food on this ship isn’t 
202 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


fit for a well man, let alone an injured one. 
It won’t take but a couple dozen oysters to 
make this boy enough broth to last him a 
week. It may mean all the difference be- 
tween his life and his death, and what’s 
more — ” 

''And what’s more,” interrupted Captain 
Briggs, striding forward, his brows bent to- 
gether in anger, "if ye don’t talk different 
pretty soon, it’s likely to mean all the differ- 
ence between life and death for ye. There’s 
oyster captains and oyster captains and — ” 

"All right, go ahead, kill me then !” Fred’s 
voice was round and full and not a bit afraid. 
"If you think you can get away with a mur- 
der to save a few oysters, go to it ! But you 
better make a good job of it, because if I 
ever get out of this thing. I’ll see the whole 
Eastern Shore knows you thought more of 
five cents’ worth of oysters than of two 
lives!” 

Alan, amazed at the quarrel between the 
203 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


man in whose power they were and the boy 
who had stood so long for peace and quiet- 
ness and submission, rose to his feet, ready 
for anything. 

“Ye get out o’ here!” cried Cap’n Briggs, 
extending a menacing hand. “I guess I know 
what’s good fer him! Hot cloths! Dry 
clothes! I told ye before — ^there’s oyster 
captains and — ” 

But as Captain Briggs backed away from 
the subject of oysters, Alan’s own anger 
rose. Before he knew it he was advancing 
toward Captain Briggs. 

“I don’t care what you told me before!” 
Alan shoved in between Fred and Cap’n 
Briggs and looked fearlessly up into his face. 
“If it hadn’t been for me there wouldn’t be 
any Billy Peck here at all! And you can’t 
kill him now, after what I’ve done without 
killing me first. Fred, I’ll give you a hand — 

Alan walked away, his weakness forgotten. 
Fred trailed after him. Without a glance to 
204 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


see what Cap’n Briggs thought 6f it, the two 
boys lifted Billy Peck, limp and sodden, and 
carried him down to the forecastle. Together 
they stripped him, dried him, and dressed him 
in dry clothes, taking some that were hang- 
ing over his bunk for the purpose. Alan 
helped himself to some of Billy Peck’s rough 
clothing, hanging his own up to dry. From 
above came the murmuring of voices. But 
Cap’n Briggs did not enter the forecastle. 
And when Alan, his part of the work done, 
went up for a breath of air, leaving Fred 
watching the moaning but unconscious boy, 
there was a smell of smoke and beans in the 
air, and Bart was just coming out of the lit- 
tle galley. 

“Ye little cuss!” he greeted Alan. “I 
thought he’d kill ye, sure ! But ye took him 
clean off his feet! I don’t suppok the old 
man’s ever been cheeked like that in his life. 
But le’me tell you this, young fellow! No 
oyster captain will carry an’ feed an’ care for 
205 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


a sick man. If you’re not mighty careful 
what you say and do, Briggs will put Billy 
Peck ashore. Put him ashore like he is now 
and it’s all up with Billy Peck. Briggs has 
got special reasons for making haste and get- 
ting all the oysters he can. Carrying dead 
timber for one of his crew ain’t going to help 
him none. But — I always did like a fellow 
with nerve. Ye certainly got it — and ye ain’t 
nothing but a little bantam.” 

Alan smiled wanly though his heart sank 
at what Bart prophesied in regard to Billy 
Peck. The excitement over, he felt afraid. 
He knew that he was right, and that Billy 
Peck, saved from drowning by his rescue, 
was suddenly valuable to him. He knew 
that he would stand up for the helpless 
boy again. But he had lost any illusion 
of Cap’n Briggs being kindly at heart — 
he was not to forget for many days that 
terrible moment when he saw the Wasp sail- 
ing on and leaving him to drown. Fred’s 
206 


ALAN^S REVENGE 


report that Cap’n Briggs was willing they 
should drown rather than risk the Wasp was 
a revelation, made the clearer by his objec- 
tions to Billy Peck having an oyster stew. 
There was a great contempt in Alan’s clean 
mind for such a man, but he could not blink 
the fact Cap’n Briggs was immensely strong, 
and that he was very slight, and that both he 
and Fred were wholly in his power. 

Of course, there were Sam and Barf — ^both 
had shown feelings of kindness since the 
rescue, and Alan supposed, if it came to a 
case of necessity, that he might find some de- 
gree of friendliness in these two. But he was 
not at all sure — even the anxiety in Sam’s 
voice as he bent over Billy Peck might be 
only a sudden emotion, and mean nothing 
permanent. 

But with his fear of consequences and of 
the future, was an odd little sensation of 
satisfaction with himself and with his cir- 
cumstances, pride in the fact that he had 
207 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


rescued a man from drowning. Not that he 
took any special credit, for Alan was a mod- 
est lad. As he could swim and Billy Peck 
couldn't, there seemed to him nothing extra- 
ordinary in his having gone overboard after 
him; it was merely good to remember. He 
did not hide from himself the knowledge 
that he had never doubted that the Wasp 
would go to his rescue. Whether he would 
have dived after Billy Peck, had he imagined 
Cap’n Briggs had any thought of not put- 
ting about was a question which he refused 
to consider. But he saw breakers ahead with 
regard to Billy Peck. Alan had seen the 
boom strike the boy, and heard the solid 
crack of wood against flesh and bone. He 
did not need Fred's knowledge of medicine 
to know that it was not such a blow as could 
be set aside with a few harsh words from 
the captain. And — Alan smiled in amused 
scorn at himself — ^he didn't want Billy Peck 
abused. 


208 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


*lt’s funny!” he argued. “Here he has 
made life miserable for us both, tormented 
us both, heaped insults and degradation on 
us both, and first I risk my life for him and 
now I don’t want him hurt by being sot 
ashore uncared for or made to work too 
soon. I ought to hate him, but I don’t — I’m 
just sorry for him.” ^ 

But it was not Christian charity or any 
survival of those early Sunday-school lessons 
which speak of turning the other cheek which 
were working in Alan’s mind. He knew he 
felt sorry for Billy Peck and had lost his 
hatred of him, for no other reason than that 
he had had the finest kind of a revenge — ^he 
had heaped coals of fire on his head and laid 
him under the greater obligation that the tor- 
mented had saved the tormentor. Whether 
Billy Peck would ever recognize the obliga- 
tion was beside the question. Alan knew it 
existed, and was content — curiously happy, 
too, in spite of pain and aches and weakness, 
209 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


in the thought that he, the littlest, lightest 
upon the Wasp, had been the one to save a 
life. 

So thinking, Alan made ready to brave 
Captain Briggs’ wrath and to prepare Billy 
Peck some oyster broth. He had some trou- 
ble in getting the bivalves open, for the Wasp 
carried no oyster knives. However, he made 
shift with a hatchet to open half dozen large 
and juicy oysters. With these and a little 
hot water added to their juice he made an 
apology for oyster broth. Milk he had none, 
but hoped there was sufficient strength in 
the fresh sea food to do Billy Peck some 
good. Nor did he make any secret of what 
he was doing. In fact, with a rather reck- 
less bravado, he made more noise in the gal- 
ley than was necessary, getting the simple 
essentials together and preparing the food. 
But if Captain Briggs heard, and hearing, 
understood, he gave no sign. Alan was 
not molested then, nor later when he 
210 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


took a pot of hot water from Bart and 
went down the smelly hole which was now 
both bedroom and hospital. Together he 
and Fred laid hot cloths to the injured boy’s 
head and ministered to him as well as they 
could. 

It was difficult to make Billy Peck swallow 
the broth. He was in a stupor or coma. 
Fred endeavored to explain to Alan the dif- 
ference, but Alan paid little attention. He 
was more interested in the physical aspect of 
Billy Peck’s case than in medical definitions, 
or the shaded meanings of words. And there 
was no disguising the fact that the wound 
on Billy Peck’s head was deep and serious- 
looking. 

"T am afraid of infection. If it inflames, 
he’ll get a fever,” explained Fred. ‘‘Of 
course there isn’t such a thing as an anti- 
septic on the vessel. The nearest approach 
to it is salt and water and that is pretty poor 
for a wound like this. But we’ve done the 
211 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


best we can when we bathe it and band- 
age it.” 

Accordingly the wound was well bathed 
in warm salt and water, Fred doing the 
work, Alan standing by to hand the simple 
conveniences they scraped together in lieu 
of the hospital equipment Fred bitterly re- 
gretted. 

When it came time to apply the bandage, 
Alan handed over what cloths he had been 
able to find. But Fred refused to use any 
of them. 

''They are too coarse to put on a wound 
like this. WeVe got to have something else.” 

"Well, I wish I could offer you something 
else, Fred,” answered Alan, "but there isn't 
such a thing as a clean rag on the boat.” 

"Oh, it isn't so much the cleanliness,” ex- 
claimed Fred impatiently. "We can boil 
them fairly clean, but these are so rough. 
We've got to have something softer to put 
next the raw flesh.” 


212 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


‘"Shirt?” suggested Alan hopefully, and 
then looked despairingly at his very dirty 
body covering. 

“No, not shirt,” said Fred, a sudden light 
in his eyes, “but underclothes! It sounds 
filthy to talk of bandaging a wound with 
underclothes, especially since they haven’t 
been washed except in sea water since Hec- 
tor was a pup ! But we’ll soon remedy that.” 
Fred commenced to disrobe. He stripped to 
his shirt and underdrawers, and taking the 
former from his back, laid it upon the cabin 
floor. With a knife he hacked out several 
long strips for bandages and putting on his 
outside khaki shirt, ran to the galley. 

Alan stayed and watched Billy Peck, in his 
heart nothing but pity and sorrow for the 
lad who had so mistreated him, now so help- 
lessly laid at his feet. Fred came back 
quickly explaining he had heated but little 
water. 

“But a little is as good as a lot, as long as 
213 


f 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


it boils. I won’t guarantee these alleged 
bandages are clean, but I believe they’re suffi- 
ciently sterile not to add materially to the 
chances of infection!” 

*'How about using them wet? Isn’t that 
bad?” asked Alan. 

‘Tt would be, ordinarily, but I’ve soaked 
these in boiled water with salt in it. Maybe 
they’ll keep out those poisonous germs,” an- 
swered Fred. “Lend a hand, can’t you?” 

Together and silently, for it was trying 
work, the two boys deftly covered the cut 
head and the badly bruised face. But when 
it was finished, Fred’s tongue was loosened 
again. He turned to Alan with a very seri- 
ous look in his young eyes and an expression 
on his face Alan had never seen. 

“I want to say, Alan,” — Fred’s voice was 
even and expressionless — “that I think you a 
very courageous fool. I wish I — I wish I 
could swim.” 

“Going after Billy Peck? It wasn’t any- 
214 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


thing ! You’d have beat me to it if you could 
swim !” Alan flushed rosily, embarrassed at 
Fred’s evident admiration. 

‘‘But you can’t swim very much. It was 
risky.” 

“I didn’t think of that. If I’d stopped, I 
might have been scared!” Alan was depre- 
cating. Fred’s left-handed praise was very 
sweet. 

“No.” Fred’s voice was final. “You 
wouldn’t have been afraid. I — tell me. Why 
did you want the Wasp to escape from the 
police boat?” 

“I — I — I don’t know. Did I ? I suppose it 
was just because — because — ” Alan stam- 
mered his way to silence. He couldn’t ex- 
plain. 

“Because it was a sporting proposition — 
the lawless, and the helpless, against the law- 
ful and the strong — I felt it too. I didn’t 
want the police boat to win, either ! And I — 
I didn’t know you'd feel that way. I didn’t 
215 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


see how you — . I didn’t know a city chap 
could.” 

‘‘Shucks!” cried Alan, “I—” 

“And I was wrong about — ^about him,” 
motioning to Billy Peck. “I hate him — ^he’s 
a beast. But I ought not to — ^to have had to 
be called twice. A doctor mustn’t think of 
his feelings. I — ” 

“Oh, forget it!” cried Alan, seeing that 
Fred had laid out a course of humble pie and 
was eating it as a duty. “If it hadn’t been 
for you, Billy Peck would have chewed me 
into bits some time ago, not to mention your 
coming after me in the boat. But — isn’t it 
funny? I don’t hate him at all, now. I’m 
just sorry for him !” 

“I’m not! I hope he suffers for weeks! 
I’d like to throw him overboard and Briggs 
after him !” And Fred’s voice was fierce. But 
his hands, deftly touching the cut head, were 
gentle and skilful. 

“If he doesn’t straighten up soon, Fm 
216 


ALAN^S REVENGE 


afraid Briggs will put him ashore! Bart 
says no oyster captain will carry, feed and 
care for a sick man.” Alan showed his anx- 
iety. “And that would kill him, I should 
think. They just leave them — put the sick 
or injured ashore any old place!” 

“Well, he wonT do it without a fight — I 
don’t care if he is big. He’s my patient!” 
cried Fred. 

“Won’t do what without a fight?” Cap’n 
Briggs came down the ladder-like stairs in 
two jumps. “How’s Billy Peck? I’ll give him 
another hour — ” 

“Look and see !” Fred stepped back. 
“You can’t work a man that isn’t conscious, 
if you are captain.” 

“Humph! And what about a fight? Have 
a keer, young man — ^there’s oyster captains 
an’ oyster captains — ” 

“I don’t give a continental if there’s an 
army of oyster captains !” The exasperation, 
the indignation and the anger of the past 
217 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


days of forced work and confinement against 
his will mastered Fred. ‘T said you couldn't 
put this boy ashore and leave him to die 
without a fight, and meant it. I'm only a boy, 
and so is he," pointing to Alan, "'but I warn 
you now you'd better tie us up good and tight 
before you try it! You tried to murder 'em 
both — leaving them, and you shan't do it 
again, if I can stop it! I'm three-fourths of 
doctor and he's my patient — ” 

Alan laid his hand on Fred's arm. ‘"Easy, 
easy," he cried softly. '^Cap'n Briggs hasn't 
put him ashore yet — easy — easy — " 

Cap'n Briggs sat down on the floor and 
his shoulders shook. Alan looked at him in 
bewilderment. Fred, fearless with rage and 
anger, didn't comprehend. But there was no 
misunderstanding the peculiar sounds which 
came from the red-bearded, broad-shouldered 
man on the floor. He was laughing ! Laugh- 
ing as he sat there, laughing harder, he got 
up still laughing, caught Alan by one arm, 
218 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


Fred by another, and in spite of Fred’s 
furious struggles; bumped their heads to- 
gether — and none too gently, but not hard 
enough to do any harm — still laughing, he 
turned and ascended the steps. 

— An’ I could crack ’em both in my 
fingers!” floated down to them, amidst 
Homeric and ribald laughter. ‘'The fightin’ 
leetle cusses !” 

Fred rubbed his head, bewildered. Alan, 
sober-faced, looked at Billy Peck. 

‘T — I can not understand him !” cried Fred 
at last. “Sometimes he’s human, and some- 
times he’s brute. Sometimes he’s fair and 
other times he’s unjust — and what was he 
now — playful?” 

“He’s very strong !” Alan rubbed his head. 
“But — I believe we’ve won, Fred. I don’t 
believe he’ll try to set Billy Peck ashore.” 

Nor did he. Two days passed and Billy 
Peck was but half conscious. He swallowed 
tea and bean soup, but would neither speak 
219 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


nor answer when spoken to. Alan and Fred, 
nursing by turns, ministered to him as best 
they could. The Wasp was at work again, 
and oyster tonging leaves but little time for 
nursing, nor lets those who follow it as busi- 
ness have much reserve strength. But Fred 
was never too tired to change the bandages 
or to feed the helpless lad, nor did Alan lag 
behind, though it was often an effort to wake 
at the feeble moan and give the drink which 
the boy wanted. 

Cap’n Briggs said no more about setting 
Billy Peck ashore. He never passed Fred 
without asking him how his head felt, and 
when his patient could work again, and as 
Fred had mastered his anger and replied re- 
spectfully enough, there was no further 
trouble just then. Nor did Cap’n Briggs 
deny them hot water, plenty of tea, and all 
the* rags needed to bind Billy Peck’s bad 
scalp wound. Fred wanted to sew up the 
wound but had neither the thread nor needle. 

220 


ALAN^S REVENGE 


“It’ll leave a scar,” he said to Alan regret- 
fully before supper on the third day. Fred 
was dressing the cut. Bart was washing up 
in the galley and Cap’n Briggs and Sam were 
forward smoking and resting after a hard 
day’s tonging. “It won’t look pretty.” 

“Do you think that will matter, much?” 
Alan’s voice was dry. 

“What will matter — where — how — ?” 
Billy Peck, who had not uttered a sound ex- 
cept a moan since he was taken from the 
water, sat up suddenly. Fred eased him 
back again. 

“Feeling better?” he asked in his best pro- 
fessional voice. 

“Better? Am I sick?” Billy Peck’s voice 
was surprised. 

“Boom knocked you overboard. Alan went 
after you and pulled you out — ^that was two 
days ago.” 

went after me?” Billy Peck pointed 
a trembling finger at Alan. 

221 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


**Yesl You’d be feeding fishes now if he 
hadn’t.” 

*'Oh, nonsense, Fred! Don’t put it as 
strong as all that.” Alan blushed like a girl. 

'Why not?” demanded Fred. "Can you 
seriously stand there and tell me that if you 
hadn’t gone after Billy Peck, he’d be alive to- 
day? You know perfectly well he was 
knocked unconscious when he went over- 
board. Do you suppose a fellow could swim 
ashore with a cut in his head like that? Look 
here, young man,” turning to Billy Peck, "I 
haven’t any more use for you than I have for 
a boil on my nose, but I think a whole heap 
of this crazy loon here who hadn’t any more 
sense than to risk his valuable life for your 
worthless one. When that beam hit you, it 
knocked you overboard as clean as a whistle. 
It stove in your head and took what little 
sense you’ve got. If Alan had been two sec- 
onds later, he’d never have found you. He 
was overboard almost as quickly as you were 
222 


ALAN’S REVENGE 


and had you by the hair. Then he swam and 
treaded water and held you up until Briggs 
finally decided he wouldn’t leave you both to 
drown. And he can’t swim very much, either. 
He just took a chance on saving you because 
— ^because — well, because he’s a fool.” 

Billy Peck’s face was puzzled. He looked 
at the dry clothes, felt of the bandage and 
looked in mute amazement as Fred raised 
his head again and offered him some tea. 

went after me ? And you — you takin’ 
care of me? Why, I don’t — I don’t under- 
stand—” 

Alan came forward smiling. ‘‘Don’t 
bother!” he said. “It wasn’t much of any- 
thing. I’m glad you are awake again. 
And don’t take what Fred says too seriously 
about what he doesn’t think of you. If he 
disliked you as much as he says, would he 
have taken the trouble to wash your cut and 
bandage it up and feed you? You ought to 
have heard him stand up to Captain Briggs 
223 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


about you, too. He can bark like anything, 
but I don't think his bite is very bad !” And 
Alan smiled at Billy Peck. Then, feeling the 
conversation finished, he turned to his com- 
panion. 

“Fred,” he said, “I'm going on deck. I 
want to — ” 

But before he could mount the ladder came 
a hoarse cry from above, and Alan and Fred 
and Billy Peck gazed in consternation in 
one another's faces. 

“Fire!” yelled Cap'n Briggs. “All hands 
on deck. The Wasp is afire! Fire — fire — ” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 

A COLD wind seemed to Alan to pass 
across his heart. But it was only for 
the paralyzing instant that comes with 
strange and unexpected fear. His muscles 
held rigid for but a fraction of a second ; then 
he was off. Fred was but a step in front 
of Alan, racing for the deck. 

Smoke was pouring from the galley, shot 
here and there with a red tongue of flame. 
Cap’n Briggs was hauling up buckets of 
water at the end of a rope and throwing the 
contents with unerring aim upon the devour- 
ing flames which threatened the Wasp, 
Bart and Sam were busy with the sails and 
the wheel, setting a course for the distant 
shore. Alan and Fred needed no instruc- 
tions, and indeed, could hardly hear the 
225 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


shouted commands for the roar of the flames. 
They seized buckets and joined Cap'n Briggs 
at the rail, and soon a regular bucket line 
was established, Bart joining it when he 
finished the hasty trimming of sail, Sam 
remaining at the wheel. 

It was a very hot fire and it was difficult to 
get close enough to make the buckets of 
water go where they would do any great 
good. Tongues of red flame shot skyward, 
almost half the height of the mast. The 
smoke was unusually dense and seemed to 
Alan, even in the excitement, to be caused by 
something else than burning wood. 

But he had little time to spend in wonder- 
ing as to its cause. Every one on board was 
working at high pressure. Buckets were 
passed back and forth so rapidly half their 
contents spilled and in a few minutes every 
one was drenched to the skin from the waist 
down. There was no semblance of calmness 
about Captain Briggs, but Alan noted in spite 
226 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 

of his evident excitement and fear that his 
hand was sure and every bucket of water was 
as well placed as the smoke, heat and flame 
would allow. 

He kept up a constant stream of yells, com- 
mands, shouts and exhortations, and again 
Alan wondered why this otherwise almost 
elemental specimen of man used so little pro- 
fanity. 

‘‘Hi! You Sam, Bart, hurry up! Can’t 
you see the fire’s gaining? I can pitch buck- 
ets twice as fast as you can haul ’em up, any 
of you. Alan Mac, don’t spill so much. Wa- 
ter on the deck ain’t going to put this fire 
out. You Fred, rustle down that forecastle 
and see if you can find another bucket. 
Hurry now, we don’t want to go down in 
mid-bay ! If we beach anywhere round here 
you’re all goners! It’s ninety miles to no- 
where and they ain’t nothing to eat between 
here and Baltimore. Hi, ye all! Look at 
that ! That bucket got one !” 

227 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


For a while the issue hung in doubt. In 
spite of Captain Briggs’ direful prophecies 
of what would happen if th&y had to go 
ashore, Alan, cool and collected, felt no fear 
of the final outcome, for he knew that with 
the oars, spars, tong handles or boxes which 
could be thrown over, they could easily sup- 
port themselves in the water even if the 
Wasp and her tender were doomed. And 
every instant brought them nearer to the 
shore. 

“Maybe we can escape now,” he thought, 
hauling manfully at the heavy buckets. 

“Faster — ^faster — pull ’em — pull ’em up!” 
gasped Cap’n Briggs. “We’ve got to move 
faster if she’s to float — Bart — get a hook — ” 

Almost throwing his bucket at Fred, Bart 
obeyed, twisting a tonging iron. With this 
he raked into the fiery furnace which was the 
galley. Alan wondered what he was after. 
But in a moment he knew. A veritable torch, 
smoking and dripping fire, Bart fished out 
228 



A veritable torch, smoking and dripping fire 





















THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


the kerosene can and with the same motion 
tumbled it overboard where it hissed and 
went out, save a few dancing yellow flames 
upon the water's surface which speedily died 
down. 

Alan's arms began to ache. Hauling up 
buckets of water is hard work. But Fred, 
by his side, gave no indications of weariness, 
and Alan would have immolated himself in 
the Are before he would acknowledge Fred's 
superior capacity. Bart was alternately 
hauling and throwing the water — Cap'n 
Briggs stepped quickly from side to side, tak- 
ing a bucket from each boy and Bart in turn, 
rushing to the limits of the Are before he 
threw it. And presently the Are lessened. 

“We've got her — we've got her!" he cried 
exultantly. “The old Wasp ain't done for 
yet — hustle now — don't give over yet — keep 
a-humpin' there — 

They hustled. The smoke grew denser, 
blacker, less shot with red and yellow. 

229 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Strange hissings came from the cave of fire 
which was the galley. Then the smoke 
thinned a little and became blue and then 
white. The next bucket Cap’n Briggs carried 
into the galley. There was a hiss, a heavy 
fall. Back again, on his hands and knees, his 
clothing on fire, came Cap’n Briggs, cough- 
ing violently. Without a moment’s hesita- 
tion, Alan shot his bucket of water full at the 
crawling figure, quenching the flame, then 
dropped the bucket overside again for a new 
pailful. Cap’n Briggs had his hand out for 
it before it was fairly over the side. If Alan 
had thought that the experience had taught 
a lesson he was mistaken. To his word- 
less admiration, back into the smoking hole 
went Cap’n Briggs — and back and back 
again he went, until the smoke died away 
into a smell, and he came out slowly and sat 
down as if tired. 

‘That’s enough!” he rumbled, his chest 
heaving. “Bart — Sam — stand off.” 

230 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


Alan dropped his bucket and took a long 
breath. Fred leaned against the rail, pant- 
ing. The shore was only a hundred yards 
away. But it might have been a hundred 
miles, for neither boy could swim or row that 
distance, exhausted as they were, even if 
they could have escaped observation or got 
the locked boat. 

*^Near squeak — near squeak!” said Fred 
soberly. ‘Tf we had worked less hard, we 
might have made the shore.” 

‘T never thought of it!” confessed Alan. 
‘‘All I thought of was to put it out.” 

“Same here !” answered Fred grimly. 
‘‘But—” 

But he did not finish. 

“Ye better go clean her up — weVe got to 
have eats soon!” called Cap'n Briggs. “Not 
much damage !” 

Fred and Alan advanced to the galley. 
It seemed incredible that so much smoke 
and fire could do so little real damage, but 
231 


1 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


they soon saw it was more mess than actual 
loss. The little galley table was burned 
through, the door and one wall were but 
charred skeletons of wood, the floor was 
badly scorched and the stove and pots and 
pans made a heterogeneous mess all over 
everything. But the greater smoke and Are 
had come from the kerosene and some rags 
as well as two old coats of Billy Peck's, one 
of them an oil-skin. An hour's hard and 
dirty work brought some semblance of order 
out of the chaos, and to Alan's secret wonder, 
supper was soon cooking as if nothing had 
happened, an empty box doing duty in place 
of the burned table. 

But something had happened, and it had 
given Alan an idea. And as soon as he had 
opportunity, he took Fred to one side and 
put it into words. 

never thought of it!" he cried softly. 
‘‘But— rthey ran for the shore. They were 
going to beach her! Why not watch for a 
232 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


good chance and set fire to the Wasp? That 
will bring us to the shore and once there — ” 
Fred turned and looked at Alan, his eyes 
alight. ‘T — I don’t know — it might work! 
Serve ’em right, too. I’d like to see the 
Wasp burn to the water line! Vd never 
have doused Briggs like you did!” 

*^Oh, yes, you would!” Alan smiled at 
Fred’s revengeful words. 

don’t know — I hate him!” Fred was 
very earnest. “But, about setting afire — 
wouldn’t they suspect us?” 

“Of course we’d have to do it so they 
wouldn’t. I rather think it’s lucky we can’t 
be suspected of this !” 

“That’s so,” agreed Fred. “If Cap’n 
Briggs thought — ” 

“// Cap*n Briggs thought what?** 

It was Cap’n Briggs’ voice, menacing, at 
their very shoulders, and Alan and Fred both 
jumped. Alan flushed guiltily. Fred was 
more self-possessed. 


233 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘‘Well, finish it! If Cap’n Briggs 
thought 

^“We were discussing the fire,” answered 
Fred evenly. “I was just saying it was 
lucky that you couldn’t think we had any- 
thing to do with it. If you thought we had — - 
and that’s as far as I got.” 

“Right!” Cap’n Briggs was heavily em- 
phatic. “But as it happens, I know jest how 
she started. You two was down with Billy 
Peck. I went in to git a light from the galley 
for the old pipe. And Billy Peck must ’a’ let 
that leaky can stand where she soaked the 
floor. It was my own pipe light that started 
it. But his keerlessness caused it. What 
I’ll do to Billy Peck for not getting rid of 
that can — it’s lucky for ye both, young men, 
lucky for ye both I know ye didn’t do it !” 

“Maybe!” was Alan’s quiet answer. “But 
Billy Peck is helpless as a child, Cap’n 
Briggs. You might as well beat up a baby 
as touch him.” 


234 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


‘‘Oh, I'm not going to learn him a lesson 
now! Ain't I got two fine young nurses to 
bring him back to strength? One of 'em a 
wet nurse, too!" Cap'n Briggs pointed to 
his soaked and burned coat in explanation. 
“I'll wait until he's at work again — then I'll 
learn him to leave leaky cans in my galley! 
I'll learn him!'' 

Alan shrank away. There was such a 
concentrated fury, such a murderous look 
in the savage face, and such a fierce de- 
termination that he was glad indeed that it 
was not at them that it was directed. It was 
beyond his comprehension that any one 
should care so vitally for a thing of wood, or 
even a pint of oysters, as to be willing to 
consider them more important than a life. 

“That was another near squeak!" mur- 
mured Fred, low, as Cap'n Briggs moved 
away. “You don't suppose he heard us — 
what we said first?" 

“I don't believe we'd be here if he had," 
235 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


answered Alan simply, showing that at last 
he had come to agree with Fred as to Cap'n 
Briggs’ real character. ‘‘And I’m not so 
sure that setting fire to the Wasp would be 
a good plan. For if it failed — ^and he sus- 
pected us — good night!” 

“I’ll risk it if you will. And I’ll risk it 
to-night. For to-night is the time, if ever. 
There’s a good breeze — and we are not far 
frorn land — and they will think it is the same 
fire, not thoroughly put out — ^there is another 
can of kerosene in the locker — ” 

Fred looked at Alan. Alan looked at Fred. 
There was determination in both young 
faces. Then, quietly, as if but talking over 
the afternoon’s happenings, they discussed 
the idea in detail. It must be when Fred 
washed up the supper dishes. He was to find 
the can and put a hole in it. Alan was to 
come by the galley and light it. Then he 
was to go down to the forecastle and report 
the dishes washed and pretend to crawl 
236 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


in his bunk. Fred was to have some life- 
saving wood handy in case they didn’t make 
shore, and supposing the tender was not 
available for them. 

Their plans made, the boys separated. 
They ate supper as if nothing was further 
from their minds than escape. Alan and 
Fred both asked questions of the morrow’s 
work and when they would unload the 
rapidly filling, shallow hold of the Wasp. 
Sam and Bart gave civil answers — Cap’n 
Briggs was seemingly absorbed in his 
thoughts. But when Alan went down to the 
forecastle again, carrying Billy Peck some 
oyster soup, and to get his pocket possessions, 
there came a sudden revulsion of feeling in 
his heart. 

He raised Billy Peck in the squalid bunk 
and held the cup to his lips. Billy Peck 
drank it slowly. Then> as he sank back on 
his rough pillow, he spoke. Alan did not 
understand and bent his head. 

237 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


'T didn’t hear,” he said quietly. “Want 
something?” 

“No.” The speech was slow and labored, 
as if the stunned brain was but slowly taking 
up its functions again. “No. But — ^thank 
you. You — good — to me.” 

No menacing club of Billy Peck’s had ever 
threatened such a flooring as those simple 
words gave him. Billy Peck was human, 
Billy Peck was grateful, Billy Peck was, per- 
haps, sorry. 

“You — good — to me.” Only four words. 
But they made Alan bite his lips, and if there 
was any lingering remnant of resentment 
in his heart for the young savage to whom 
he had returned good for evil, it vanished 
with those four small words. He was glad. 
He was especially glad because to-morrow 
there would be no Billy Peck in his life. 
They were going to escape. To-night was 
the last night. Billy Peck would be left be- 
hind — left behind — ^left behind on the blaz- 
238 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


ing schooner. Would Cap’n Briggs bother to 
take him off? Would Sam or Bart think to 
lift the helpless heavy figure, lower it over- 
side in the boat, or jump with it into shallow 
water in case they beached the Wasp ? Would 
there be time? He and Fred could not do 
it — their plan was to make for the woods 
and lose themselves from pursuit the minute 
the Wasp was beached. Would the remain- 
ing crew think of the helpless lad ? Or would 
they save what they could and remember, 
perhaps too late, the helpless life in the fore- 
castle? 

A week ago there could have been but 
one answer to such a question. But Alan 
had lost all belief in the goodness of Cap’n 
Briggs’ heart — and now Cap’n Briggs was 
angry at Billy Peck. He would be angrier 
still if the fire broke out again. Of course, 
the second fire wouldn’t be Billy Peck’s fault. 
But Cap’n Briggs wouldn’t know that. Why, 
in case they failed and to save their own 
239 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


skins they had planned to make him think 
it was the same fire, breaking out again. 
They were just piling up Cap’n Briggs’ ani- 
mosity against Billy Peck. If they succeeded, 
Billy Peck might burn to death. Or he 
might be drowned. Or the sudden move and 
excitement might bring on a relapse-^Alan 
didn’t know how badly Billy Peck was hurt. 
And Billy Peck — Billy Peck the tormentor, 
Billy Peck the ruffian, Billy Peck their 
Nemesis — Billy Peck was grateful. Sick, 
helpless, injured, and having doubly incurred 
the enmity of Cap’n Briggs, first by being 
injured and so depriving the Wasp of a 
‘"hand” and now by carelessness about the 
kerosene — Billy Peck must be left to his fate 
— if the fire plan was to be carried out. 

‘Tt won’t do,” Alan said to himself, and 
there was no hesitation in his decision. ‘Tt 
won’t do. We must think of something else. 
I must tell Fred.” 

He dreaded telling Fred. Fred had grown 
240 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 




hard, under privation, and revengeful. Alan 
recalled his feeling about helping Billy Peck 
with his medical knowledge, and his state- 
ment that he would not have extinguished 
Cap’n Briggs — ^his delight in the idea that 
the Wasp might burn to the water's edge. 
But Fred had to be told and told at once; 
Alan had made up his mind. 

So Alan went up on deck, and beckoned 
Fred from the galley, where he was putting 
the last touches to cleaning up. 

‘‘We can't do it," he said shortly, to con- 
ceal the regret in his tone. “We might kill 
Billy Peck. It's all off." 

Fred did not start nor show surprise. He 
placed a pot carefully on the improvised 
table, hung up a dish cloth and pushed a pan, 
containing heated water, farther back on the 
now rejuvenated galley stove, and wedged it 
firmly into its rack, for the Wasp was heav- 
ing to a gentle swell. Then he turned to 
Alan. 


241 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘That’s been bothering me, too,” he said at 
last. ‘T’ve been trying to square it with my 
conscience. I want to see the Wasp burn — * 
even more than I want to escape. But he’s 
helpless. We are healthy, and uninjured. 
He’s a brute and we owe him rather less 
than nothing. But — 

“We owe him decent humanity, I think,” 
Alan finished Fred’s hesitating sentence. 
“No use us being beasts, too.” 

That was all. But in both boys’ hearts 
was an unaccustomed feeling of lightness. 
The labor seemed less hard, the life less 
perilous, the experience less difficult, that 
they had seen a chance and denied it for the 
sake of the helpless boy below. 

And they needed something in their hearts 
besides courage and grit to sustain them dur- 
ing the next few days. For Cap’n Briggs, 
declaring that what with being chased by the 
police boat and losing time, and having a 
storm and losing gear, and time, and having 
242 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


Billy Peck go overboard and losing a '‘hand/’ 
and time, and having a fire, and losing more 
time, every one must work twice as hard as 
before. 

He seemed greatly anxious to make haste. 
This was nothing unusual — ^hurry and 
strained effort had been their portion every 
day. But the fuller the hold of the Wasp 
became, tlie more anxious Cap’n Briggs 
seemed to get it quite full, and he drove his 
short-handed crew without mercy. 

He was so vehement about the necessity 
for extra work that even Sam and Bart ven- 
tured to protest. 

‘'Look here. Captain Briggs!” declared 
Sam, usually the silent member of the crew. 
‘T know as how yeVe reasons for wantin' to 
make up lost time ! But me and Bart is only 
human, not to mention those two little squirts 
of yourn! We can't work more'n twenty- 
four hours in twenty-four and ye know we 
can't work that very long. Ye know — '' 

243 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“Never mind what I know, you Sam,” bel- 
lowed Captain Briggs. “You do as I say and 
make haste or ye'll be mighty sorry ye ever 
shipped on the WaspT 

“That's all very well,” interrupted Bart, 
“but what Sam says has got sense to it. You 
work us twenty-four hours on end a little 
while and we won't have no strength to pull 
up any oysters. We got to go slow if we're 
going to go fast, and the sooner ye make up 
yer mind to the fact that we're perfectly 
willing to do all men can do, but can't do any 
more, the better for the lot of us.” 

To Alan, who overheard this conversation, 
it was amazing that Captain Briggs allowed 
himself to be so readily silenced, nor could 
he understand what was in the captain's 
mind when he ended the conversation with a 
single sentence and that a very mild, almost 
a placating one. 

“I won't say no more, boys, ye all know 
why we got to hurry. I reckon maybe ye'll 
244 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


do the best ye can without no more drivin' 
from me/' 

But Alan had little opportunity, either to 
talk this odd saying over with Fred or to 
wonder at its meaning. 

The Wasp was pointed up the bay again, 
and work went forward with redoubled force. 
Rain or shine, day or night, it seemed to make 
no difference. It was tong, tong, tong when- 
ever they reached a bed, whether other boats 
were there or not. It was tong, tong, tong 
until the cream of the position had been 
taken. Let one tong come up half full, and 
a speedy trial was made by Cap'n Briggs 
himself — did he think the bed was yielding 
too little, and off he would move to another 
location. 

He seemed to know well where many 
good beds were, and many times there were 
hard words between the deck of the Wasp and 
the deck of some little triangular sailed bug- 
eye, or broad-sterned oyster schooner, at the 
245 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Wasp's piggishness. But Cap’n Briggs, rag- 
ing from fore to aft, the incarnation of 
energy and drive, cared little what was said 
to him. Day and night he drove the Wasp, 
the boys, and Sam and Bart. Into little bays 
and coves and out again, now here, now 
there, always on the lookout for the police 
boat, the Wasp went busily on her pirating 
way. 

Daily Cap’n Briggs visited the forehold and 
threatened Billy Peck with dire things if he 
did not speedily get up and work. But even 
he could see that Billy Peck, much wasted 
with little food and much bed lying, was in 
no condition to work — even when, Alan and 
Fred supporting him, he managed, one sunny 
day, to reach the deck. 

It was a continual surprise to Alan that 
Captain Briggs did nothing worse than 
threaten Billy Peck and lash him with his 
tongue. But he never deserted the bigger 
lad and stood by his side manfully, trying in 
246 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


all his boyish ways to lessen Cap’n Briggs’ 
anger. 

“He’s doing his best, Cap’n Briggs, really,” 
he would tell him, or, “It was a heavy blow, 
Cap’n Briggs ; I don’t believe even you could 
hit harder than the boom did,” or, “Never 
mind, Cap’n Briggs, he’ll be well soon; and 
I’ll tojag a little harder.” 

And Cap’n Briggs would cease his bully- 
ing and turn a speculative eye upon the 
slighter lad and sometimes wink. “You little 
cuss!” he often observed, “I could rack ye 
with a finger ! What ye so fond of us all for, 
hey? Ye put me out when I was a-bumin’I 
Don’t ye know Billy Peck’s going to beat you 
up good, one of these days? He hasn’t for- 
gotten the time ye sat on him !” And with a 
heavy guffaw he would wander away and 
leave them alone. 

Or perhaps he would add physical playful- 
ness to his teasing speech. Once he caught 
Alan by both elbows and raised him high in 
247 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


the air at arm’s length and then let him down 
slowly, so slowly Alan wondered where the 
power came from, which held his weight 
aloft. He could not keep the hearty admira- 
tion from his voice as he turned toward the 
captain. 

‘'You certainly have the strength of ten 
men in those arms of yours.” 

Perhaps it was the honest admiration in 
the boy’s eyes, perhaps mere vanity; what- 
ever it was. Captain Briggs looked at him 
attentively for a moment. Then : 

"That ain’t anything. Look here!” He 
waddled across to the galley and came forth 
with the stove poker in his hand. Taking it 
between his two hands and without any 
visible effort he bent it in a semicircle — ^then 
catching both ends in one huge paw closed 
the two together until they touched. 

"Stay with me long enough, oyster tong- 
ing, and ye’ll have that kind of strength too,” 
he said and then laughed his great laugh. 

248 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


“Ye’ll need it, too, when Billy Peck gets well 
again. Billy Peck’s a whole lot stronger than 
ye are.” 

Billy Peck was still a problem. He was 
obviously better and yet he spoke little, and 
never of the time Alan had upset him or had 
rescued him. 

“But he never takes his eyes off you !” said 
Fred to Alan, one evening. “He watches you 
all the time. I wonder what he’s thinking 
of?” 

“Don’t know — don’t care. Oh, suffering 
cats ! But I didn’t know I could be so tired.” 
Alan said “tired.” But in his heart he said 
also blue and discouraged. 

Fred was weary, too. Both boys were per- 
ceptibly thinner. Their hands had hardened 
and toughened. They were grimy to black- 
ness, but the sore places had healed, for 
which both were grateful. Their clothing 
was a mixture of holes, rags and dirt, but 
neither cared. The decencies of life were 
249 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


their least important considerations. Some- 
thing to eat, a few hours’ sleep, plenty of 
water and tea to drink — that was all they 
thought of — besides escape. 

Plans for escape were continually made 
and continually rejected. Key to the 
padlock which held the tender they could 
not get, for Cap’n Briggs wore it about his 
neck. Swim for the shore they could not, 
for it was too far — and Fred did not swim. 
To jump for it and hope for rescue from an- 
other oyster boat was like going from fry- 
ing pan to fire. Any other boat, they knew, 
would either hand them back again or com- 
pel them to serve on it — and there were 
worse boats than the Wasp, as even Alan 
knew by now. For Fred’s tales had received 
confirmation from both Sam and Bart, each 
of whom thought the Wasp a model schooner. 

‘‘There’s few better than the Wasp,** said 
Sam to Alan one day. “Briggs is rough and 
talks a lot but he never does anything. Now 
250 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


when I served as a boy on the old Mary Hill 
we had a captain that was a captain. Jami- 
son, his name was, and he was some man. 
He was as strong as Briggs and had a heart 
about as tender as that ax! You jumped 
when old Jamison spoke or he hit you a clip 
side of the jaw that laid ye stiff for a week. 
If Billy Peck had been on Jamison’s ship, he’d 
been overboard inside half an hour after he 
was hit. Jamison didn’t care any more 
whether ye lived or died than he did about a 
cockroach. I seen him hit men with oyster 
tongs and stick ’em clean through ’em. Mur- 
der? Sure it was murder! What did Jami- 
son care about murder? Nobody ever told on 
him and anyway, there waren’t no evidence. 
Dare say you all think the Wasp is kind o’ 
rough, but me and Sam, we knows there’s few 
better ships to sail on.” 

‘"But didn’t they ever catch him and put 
him in jail?” asked Alan, shocked. 

“Oh, sure, they caught him! Tried some 
251 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


of his rough stuff in dock one time and there 
was a navy officer on shore in plain clothes. 
Inside of ten minutes, Jamison was in irons. 
But he had ten witnesses to swear he didn't 
do nothin'. But most of 'em has got better 
sense. Even if Briggs got good and mad 
some time and did hit ye, he'd never do it 
where any one could see him. Any one that 
would tell on him any place it would do him 
any harm, that is." 

It was on one of their easier days, when 
there was some distance to run between the 
bed last visited and that next to withstand, 
as best it could, their piratical attack, that 
Alan had another most interesting conversa- 
tion, this time with Bart. The wind was fair, 
the sun bright, the tonging had been good, 
and Alan's shoveling work light, since the 
hold of the Wasp was now well filled both 
forward and aft and the central hole in the 
cargo was now in process of being filled by 
direct dumping from the deck. So he had a 
252 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


little leisure, and sat idly on the deck, while 
Bart steered. 

suppose ye are going to raise a fog about 
all this when ye get back And Bart smiled 
a twisted smile at the sitting boy. 

‘‘Do you mean) are we going to prosecute 
Cap’n Briggs for taking us against our will 
and making us work ?” asked Alan. 

“That’s it — in nice citified words.” 

“Well, what would you do?” countered 
Alan. “If some one stole you away from 
your job and made you do theirs?” 

“Oh, ’tain’t a question as to what Vd do,” 
answered Bart, grinning. “ ’Cause I know 
just what I could and couldn’t. But ye don’t 
know. That’s why I asked.” 

“Well, I don’t know what Uncle Sam will 
say about Cap’n Briggs taking two of his 
survey men,” answered Alan, “but both Fred 
and I have relatives enough to back us in a 
court fight. And while we are making no 
threats ” Alan set his lips grimly. 

253 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘ThaPs what I thought,” Bart nodded his 
head. “Now, listen. You are quite a little 
bantam — ^you and the other chap. We think, 
Sam and me, you both stood the gaff right 
well. So I’m a-tellin’ ye. Don’t ye waste 
time. Ye won’t get yourself nowheres.” 

“How do you mean, won’t get myself no- 
wheres?” 

“I mean this,” and Bart looked straight at 
Alan. “Two words is no good against four. 
“Remember what Sam told you the other day 
about Briggs? If he ever did anything, he’d 
do it so no one would see who would tell. 
Well, that’s what he meant and that’s what 
I mean. If ye should get Cap’n Briggs into 
court, he wouldn’t know ye. Neither has 
Sam ever seen ye, or Billy Peck. Or me. 
None of us ever seen ye before. Ye are just 
crazy. We’d all swear to it and stick to it. 
And Briggs ain’t hurt ye none. Ye couldn’t 
'prove a thing.” 

“But — ^but — ^but that’s perjury!” cried 
254 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


Alan, aghast. 'Would you swear to a lie, 
Bartr' 

Bart laughed heartily. “That’s funny!” 
he cried. “Swear to a lie! Why, boy, the 
laws is just made by the rich folks for them- 
selves! Who gave the State o’ Maryland 
those oysters ? They belong to us poor folks ! 
Who gave ’em the right to chase us and put 
us in jail if we take our own oysters? 
Money! Nothing but money! Why, we 
couldn’t think no more o’ telling the court 
anything we pleased than you would at set- 
ting your foot on a cockroach ! They’s wicked 
laws and wicked courts — it’s no sin to beat 
’em! And Briggs had some mighty good 
reasons for takin’ ye — reasons ye don’t know 
nothin’ at all about!” 

It was a new point of view to Alan. He 
had not talked with Fred about what they 
should do when at last they won freedom — 
for with the passage of time it seemed as if 
the day was indefinitely projected into the fu- 
255 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


ture. But the thought that they could prove 
nothing because their captors would band to- 
gether to outswear them was disquieting. It 
made him think more than he wanted to of 
the father, who must by this time have been 
told by cable or wireless and who must be 
fearfully worried, of the survey boys and 
Captain Stamford’s worry and fear. 

The thought stayed with him all afternoon. 
It was put overboard every time he let the 
tongs down and hauled in again with every 
oyster. It was cooked in the rough supper 
and was in the dirty dish water as he 
scrubbed up afterward. It was stewed in the 
oyster soup for Billy Peck which was now a 
part of his daily work in the galley. It was 
wound in the bandages about the wounded 
boy’s head which he and Fred religiously 
changed every evening. 

Not the least wearisome part of the 
thought was the recollection that for days at 
a time the anxiety of those left behind, the 
256 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


worry which the situation must have caused 
his father, had not crossed his mind. 

‘‘And yet, it would have done no good to 
think about it,” he consoled himself. “WeVe 
done everything we could do to get away. 
We didn’t choose to come on this expedition 
and unless it was my fault because I quar- 
reled with Fred, and didn’t see them when 
they came up, I don’t see how we’re to blame. 
But how dad must be worrying! I expect 
Captain Stamford and the boys haven’t had a 
very pleasant time of it. We don’t even know 
Captain Stamford was able to read Fred’s 
cuts on the boat. He may be thinking we’re 
drowned. For all I know, they’ve disbanded 
the party and gone home because a couple of 
the crew were lost. But I wish father knew. 
His worry is worse than any Captain Stam- 
ford can possibly have.” 

Perhaps it was this thought, perhaps the 
hard work, perhaps a greater degree of tired- 
ness than usual — Alan did not know. But 
257 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


suddenly in the evening darkness with the 
cheerful stars shining overhead and the night 
breeze with a hint of fall chill in it, blowing 
freshly in his face, Alan felt a sudden rush 
of tears to his eyes, and a wave of self-pity 
in his heart. 

He hoped the darkness concealed the for- 
mer. For a moment he didnT answer Fred's 
less than usually casual, “Tired, kid?” Then 
he spoke shortly to cover his feelings. 

“Very.” 

“So am I. Thought of any plan ?” 

“No. I — I can't think much, nowadays.” 

In spite of all he could do, his voice broke 
a little. After all, he was only a boy, a boy 
in a strange and terrifying position. And 
Fred seemed to understand. He laid a firm 
hand on Alan's shoulder, slipping his arm 
over comfortably. 

“Pretty rough sort of a joke — ^this particu- 
lar kind of surveying!” And Alan could sense 
the smile in Fred's words though he couldn't 
258 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


see it. all things come to an end — 

even a long hard day. But I’d rather be us 
than Billy Peck. Did you give him any sup- 
per?” 

Alan stood up remorsefully. As he took 
Fred’s hand from his shoulder he gripped it 
hard. It might have been in the effort to 
get up and it might have been something 
else. Alan hoped Fred would not notice it to 
the extent of speech. But he felt vaguely 
comforted with that friendly hand, and the 
thought of Fred the impassive, Fred the 
stern and the disliked, having grown friend- 
ly and protecting. It made him seem less 
alone. Nor did he know that Fred’s sugges- 
tion was prompted by anything else than 
feeling for Billy Peck. He did know it was 
something to do — something to take his mind 
off himself, and that was what he needed. 
He did not sense Fred’s smile this time, how- 
ever, as he answered, ‘‘Suffering cats, no! 
I was so hungry and — tired, I forgot I” 

259 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Upbraiding himself for his forgetfulness, 
Alan started to get some oysters to make 
Billy Peck some of the thin liquid gruel he 
called broth. He selected half a dozen juicy 
oysters, carried them to the galley and opened 
them with the hatchet. It was always with 
some trepidation that he did it, knowing Cap- 
tain Briggs objected strenuously to what was 
to him a waste of good money. Alan shrank 
from 'any further conflict with his burly 
captor. 

He made no special effort to be quiet 
about his work, feeling that to do so would 
be to give way to fear. But although he 
never attempted to make oyster broth with- 
out fearing the renewed wrath of Captain 
Briggs, he was none the less startled when 
the heavy step sounded at the door and 
Briggs’ voice indicated the scowl upon his 
face. 

‘‘At it again, be ye !” 

Alan looked up. He did not stop his work 
260 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


but answered respectfully enough, ‘^Yes, sir, 
Billy Peck isn't well yet." 

‘‘Think my oysters goin’ to make him well, 
do ye? I told ye before and I tell ye again, 
there's oyster captains and oyster captains. 
Some of 'em would drop ye overboard and 
some of 'em would beat ye to death. I ain't 
done neither so far. But if I catch ye open- 
ing any more oysters for Billy Peck or any- 
body else, ye'll find out sure enough just what 
kind of a man I am." 

There was ^something in the tone more 
than in the words that roused Alan's anger. 
He laid down his oysters carefully and stood 
up quickly, fearlessly facing the big man in 
front of him. 

“You mean I mustn't give Billy Peck any 
more oysters?" he asked very quietly. 

“Well, what would ye think I mean? 
You're a city boy and gone to school ! What 
ye think I mean?" 

“I'm not sure," answered Alan composedly, 
261 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“whether you mean what you say or whether 
you’re going to end up by sitting down and 
laughing at me or boxing my ears. I don’t 
know why you think a few oysters worth so 
much more than Billy Peck but I wouldn’t be 
at all surprised if you threw us all over- 
board.” 

“Oh, ye wouldn’t, wouldn’t ye?” Captain 
Briggs was evidently nonplussed. 

“Because I don’t think you’ve got any 
heart in that big body of yours at all,” went 
on Alan defiantly, struggling with a lump he 
vainly strove to swallow. “I’m not sure that 
I care very much except on account of Billy 
Peck what you do.” 

Alan stood quietly awaiting the wrath he 
felt was about to descend. He didn’t know 
whether he was to be shaken or struck, or 
whether Captain Briggs would take him at 
his word and whirl him overboard. But as 
before, Alan found he knew very little about 
what Captain Briggs was going to do either 
262 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


from what he had done or from what he said. 
His burly captor looked at him a minute 
keenly, then turned on his heel and passed to 
the stern of the Wasp, Alan thought he 
heard the echo of a chuckle and the words, 
‘The fightin’ little cuss.” But he could not 
be sure and, shaking in every limb, he re- 
turned to his task. 

Indeed, it was very necessary that the in- 
jured lad have broth and the ministrations 
which Alan and Fred so cheerfully gave him. 
Billy Peck as yet only crawled from bunk 
to deck and back again, depending on Fred 
and Alan for food and drink and aid in mov- 
ing about, seeming pathetically weak and 
helpless and dazed. When he came back 
from feeding him, the mood of black despair 
was broken. But the conversation with Bart 
persisted in his mind. He related it at 
length to Fred, sitting closely by his side, 
grateful for the touch of a friendly body. 

“And — I guess he's right? What can we 
263 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


do, the two of us, if they do stand together 
and outswear us?” 

“We need some other evidence,” answered 
Fred, puzzled. It was a new thought to him, 
also. He had always believed in a day when 
Cap’n Briggs would get severely punished 
for his shanghaing. “We need some other 
evidence — something to show — something 
that canT be sworn away — something a — ” 

“A picture !” cried Alan softly. “The 
kodak!” 

Fred reached over and gripped Alan by 
the hand. “Of course !” he whispered. 
“What a dolt not to think of it! We've got 
to take pictures of every man on board, of 
the boat, of everything. Of you working, of 
me working. They can't swear those away! 
And they'd have great difficulty in explaining 
how we got them any other way than the way 
we say we did!” 

“But we must be careful — ” 

“Sure ! But they won't know what we are 
264 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


doing. I don’t think they know anything 
about kodaks — ” 

'‘Of course they don’t,” interrupted Alan, 
“and what’s more I don’t believe they know 
anything about the value of pictures for evi- \ 
dence. I’m not sure they wouldn’t let us 
take all the pictures we want and never think 
anything about it.” 

“Don’t you believe it ! Alan McIntosh, you 
be just as careful using that camera as you 
know how. Don’t let a soul see you do it and 
put it away the minute you’re through. 
Briggs may not know anything about kodaks, 
but he’s no fool.” 

“I guess you’re right. But won’t it be per- 
fectly corking fine to stand in a court room 
some day and show these pictures, and won’t 
it be a tale to tell how we got them?” 

“Seems to me the first thing we’ve got to 
do is to get them,” suggested Fred. “We’ll 
show them in the court room and tell the tale 
afterward.” 


265 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


For an hour, tired as they were, the two 
boys, Alan's blueness quite forgotten, dis- 
cussed the kodak. There were three rolls of 
films, each sufficient for ten pictures. Both 
had been too occupied, too anxious, to think 
of it as anything to be used, before. It was 
an amusement, a hobby, a pleasure, and they 
had been far from such a long time — a time 
which seemed much longer than it really 
was. 

Now, however, they thought of little else 
than the little kodak which was to perfect 
their evidence and eventually stand Briggs 
in the dock and send him to jail. 

The next morning dawned bright and 
clear. They had no opportunity to use the 
instrument for some time, for breakfast had 
to be disposed of, the tongings proved to be 
good, and Cap'n Briggs drove them to it with 
force and vim. “Ye get at it — and at it 
hard!” he commanded. “I don't want to be 
out here forever getting one load. I need it 
266 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


— she needs it! You Mac — if I see you loaf 
any — . You Fred! Stop handling tongs like 
they was toothpicks. Sam, Bart, get some 
force into ye — ” 

But about eleven o’clock when Cap’n 
Briggs stepped to one side to try a tongful 
himself, Alan snatched the kodak from his 
shirt, opened, focussed and snapped. As 
rapidly as he could turn the film, he took 
pictures of Sam, of Bart, of Billy Peck lying 
at full length face up, his hat over his eyes, 
of Fred, using a shovel, and of the whole 
length of the deck. 

With a low call, he passed the instru- 
ment to Fred, who as speedily made some 
snaps from his side of the deck, including one 
of Alan. The ten films were exposed without 
a hitch, and the kodak back in Alan’s shirt in 
less than five minutes. As soon as he could 
he went down into the forecastle and 
changed the film, hiding the exposed one in 
his inside jacket pocket — then thinking bet- 
267 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


ter of it, he took it out and put it in the 
crack in his bunk where it had lain since the 
day of the attempted escape. 

To be sure he had enough pictures and 
good ones, after dinner Alan attempted to 
make a duplicate set. Again he watched his 
chance and again he began with a picture 
of Cap’n Briggs. But the picture he wanted, 
of Sam, standing side face, required him to 
turn his back to Cap’n Briggs. He had just 
snapped it, when there was a warning cry 
from Fred. He half turned, wondered what 
was coming. Cap’n Briggs advanced on the 
run, black fury on his face! 

“Swine — swine!” he yelled. “City swine! 
I’ll teach ye — ” Alan, bewildered, held the 
kodak idly in his hands, hardly realizing that 
it was the cause of Cap’n Briggs’ anger. 
The next instant the burly form had swept 
up against him, and with amazement and in- 
dignation his uppermost emotions, Alan 
found himself hurtling through the air to 
268 


THE LITTLE POCKET KODAK 


the green water below. Something struck it 
a fraction before he did, and he knew even 
in that lightning moment that his kodak was 
gone forever. 


CHAPTER VIII 


PIRATE’S GOLD 

A lan came up blowing water and indig- 
nation. He was not at all frightened. 
He had proved himself enough of a swimmer 
once before to wait until rescue came. Res- 
cue now he did not doubt. His back was to 
the Wasp and he revolved in the water to 
see her. As he did so, something struck him 
in the face. He dodged, and went under. 
There was a confused shouting — ^then, his 
hands pawing the water closed on a rope. He 
hung tight and, his face buried, was hauled 
to the side of the Wasp, the water through 
which he was dragging maki^jg a wave about 
his shoulders. Cap’n Briggs stared down at 
him, his face grim but the little eyes twink- 
ling. It looked oddly distorted and curious, 
seen upside down and from below. 

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PIRATE^S GOLD 


‘‘Think ye can hold on if I haul ye up ? Or 
must I heave to for this fish?” 

“Haul!” gasped Alan. He could not have 
told why, but Cap’n Briggs’ scornful words 
stung. “Haul in!” 

Cap’n Briggs hauled in. It was ridiculous- 
ly easy. The powerful arms pulled in the 
rope, the dripping boy clinging to it with all 
his strength, as easily as if it had been a 
bucket of water. Then one big paw caught 
him by the collar and dragged him inboard, 
without effort. The amazing strength of the 
man was a source of never-ending wonder to 
Alan — whether it was applied in peaceful 
arts, in shaking him or rescuing him from 
the water. 

“There,” declaimed Cap’n Briggs. “Oh — 
where’s the picture box?’’ 

“It’s — it’s gone!” stammered Alan. He 
didn’t understand. Hadn’t Cap’n Briggs 
knocked him overboard? Wasn’t it on ac- 
count of the kodak? What did he mean? 

271 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


'Too bad!” he said solemnly. "Too bad! 
Ye must buy another toy when I pays ye the 
wages I promised ye! But ye don’t need it 
here!” 

He looked at Alan piercingly — and Alan 
understood. A black rage grew within him 
at the manhandling, at the ruthlessness that 
would risk his life to punish him for daring 
to make a picture. Calmer moments brought 
some thought that the risk was not great, 
since Cap’n Briggs knew he could swim. But 
the indignation remained. Now, however, 
he had sense enough not to answer back. 

"Yes, sir,” he said, dropping his eyes. "I 
don’t need it here.” 

"And I don’t need ye should have pictures 
o’ me neither!” The captain glowered at 
him a moment. Then he smiled; his grim 
smile. "Beetle bantam! But I ain’t forget- 
ting ye doused me when I was afire.” And 
he turned on his heel and strode away. Alan 
didn’t know whether he meant he had been 
272 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


<4 


ducked in revenge, or that no further notice 
was to be taken of his ‘'crime” in using the 
kodak because Cap'n Briggs was grateful. 
Nor did he care, especially. He was sur- 
prised to find himself taking it all rather as a 
matter of course. He did not realize how 
continuous excitement makes strange hap- 
penings seem commonplace. Two weeks ago 
and Alan would have trembled for an hour 
after being thrown overboard, and would 
have thought only of dry clothes and rest. 
Now he picked up his shovel and went to 
clearing the deck as if little had happened. 

There was no more tonging — the Wasp 
held on her course up the bay. As he let his 
clothes dry on him, Alan wondered where 
they were going. Fred had little to say about 
his ducking. To him, too, it was almost com- 
monplace. Sam winked at him, and Bart 
told him he looked like a drowned rat — that 
was all. 

It was supper-time before he had a chance 
273 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


to discuss the day^s eventful happenings with 
Fred at any length. Then with legs dangling 
over the stern of the now anchored Wasp, 
eating bean soup, they talked. 

“So much for our evidence !'' smiled F red. 
“Well, we had the fun of planning.” 

Alan looked around cautiously. Then — 

“I have the first roll, in my bunk!” he 
whispered. “I started to keep it in my 
clothes, but I changed my mind.” 

Fred looked at him quickly. Then he 
laughed, a low serene laugh. “If we get away 
with it, may I be there to see when we show 
Briggs those pictures in court!” he said. 

Alan ate in silence. He was hungry. The 
afterglow, fading from the sky, was setting 
its spell of witchery. There was something 
very appealing in the shore line to Alan — 
the soft line of darknes!^ where sky and water 
met, a single light among the blue-black Alan 
knew for trees, the rose of sky fading to the 
dull of night, with here and there a star peep- 
274 


PIRATE’S GOLD 


ing through scudding clouds. He did not 
know why it should especially appeal to- 
night, but he was conscious that it did. 

'Tt’s pretty, isn’t it?” he said, with his 
mouth full, waving his spoon vaguely. 

“Yes,” answered Fred. But the tone was 
curious, and Alan looked at him inquiringly. 

“It’s pretty and — it’s familiar!” Fred 
drew his brows together, puzzled. “Why 
should it appear familiar?” 

“Is that it?” Alan was enthusiastic. “I 
knew it was something — I felt it. Have we 
been here before?” 

“I think — I think we came from here!” 
answered Fred slowly. “Unless I am much 
mistaken, our survey camp is about ten miles 
north, and the place where we were taken 
just beyond that next headland.” 

“Why do you suppose we didn’t tong any 
this afternoon?” asked Alan. “Have we 
come here for some purpose? Do you 
think—.” 


275 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“Shshsh!” Fred raised his hands. “Lis- 
ten!” 

Alan listened. Very faintly, through the 
dusk, came the sound of oars. They could 
see nothing, but the sound grew very, very 
gradually stronger as if the invisible boat, 
swallowed in the twilight, was approaching 
the Wasp, Fred turned and looked forward 
curiously. Yes, in the fore rigging shone a 
light. “It's coming here. I wish it wasn’t 
so overcast. There’s hardly a star. I won- 
der—” 

Alan wondered also. Could it be the 
police? They would hardly send in a single- 
oared boat. Could it be any one from the sur- 
vey party? Why should they row across to 
the Wasp, a row of over a mile at night? 
Perhaps the single oarsman was but crossing 
the water from shore to shore — the arm of 
the bay in which they were was not more 
than two miles across. Perhaps he was not 
bound for the Wasp at all. 

276 


PIRATE’S GOLD 


/ 


Forward the boys could hear voices. They 
had heard the oarsman, too. Nearer and 
nearer came the sound. There seemed no 
doubt now that the rowboat was bound for 
the Wasp. ‘"Click — click — clack — click — 
click — clack,” went the locks, as the delib- 
erate rower pulled for the Wasp. 

Then there was a hail — ^not loud, but very 
clear. **Wasp, ahoy ! Briggs !” 

“Ahoy, then !” answered Cap’n Briggs. 
There was eagerness in his voice. “That 
you, Ben Sheel?” 

“Aye!” came the deep clear answer. 
“Heave a line!” 

Alan and Fred, listening with all their 
ears, did not note a cautious step behind 
them. Then both recoiled as a hand slid 
around their necks and each boy’s mouth was 
sealed with a huge paw. 

“Shshsh!” came a hoarse low whisper. 
“Not a word. It’s me, Billy Peck.” 

The hands dropped from their mouths, 
277 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


and both boys turned as one. Billy Peck! 
On deck — at night — ^walking — ^talking — ^what 
could it mean? 

“Why — what — ” began Alan, his brain 
working crookedly. Again the hand was 
pressed to his mouth. 

“Shshsh !” came the whisper again. “Lis- 
ten! That's Ben Sheel. News from home for 
Briggs. I been expecting this. You boys 
come from ten miles around that headland. 
When he ties up, he'll come aboard. Him and 
Briggs will talk, Bart will sit by the rail — 
keep you from stealin' the boat. You be all 
ready. I'll go forward. I'll fall, and yell. 
Bart will jump. Then in you go, cut the 
rope — and pull! They can't catch ye with 
the tender. It's slower. And they can't find 
ye in the dark.” 

Billy Peck turned to go. But Alan laid a 
hand on his arm. “But — ^but why, Billy 
Peck? I don't understand! Do you want 
us to get away?” 


278 


PIRATE’S GOLD 


Billy Peck put his head down between the 
two boys so his low whisper carried to them, 
but no farther. 

“Th’ only school I ever went to,” he mut- 
tered rapidly, ‘Vas Sunday-school, for a 
month. They talked a lot about good fer 
evil. I didn’t believe it. But it’s so. I laid 
fer ye — ye saved my life. I treated ye bad — 
ye waited on me an’ fed me. I been playin’ 
off — playin’ weak, so I could help ye get 
away. I’ll never forget ye.” 

The low whisper ceased and Billy Peck 
stole silently away. Alan got up, and with a 
word to Fred, flew for the forecastle. He 
secreted the roll of film and his one or two 
small possessions in his coat, dry now, took 
a hasty look around to see he had* forgotten 
nothing and fled back again. 

Quick as he had been, the rope had been 
thrown and caught, and Ben Sheel, whoever 
he might be, was on board. Catching the 
spirit of the plan, Fred and Alan stood near 
279 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


.the rail some distance from amidships where 
the stranger's boat was moored with a tow 
line, Bart standing near by. 

*T go first — ^you can swim — ” Fred's whis- 
per was incoherent, but Alan understood and 
nodded comprehension. 

Cap'n Briggs had the stranger by the hand 
and was talking eagerly. Suddenly his voice 
changed — ^he gave a low cry, and staggered. 
Then beckoning, he slouched to the galley and 
went inside. The stranger, hat in hand, fol- 
lowed. 

‘mat on earth—” 

“That's funny—” 

The two boys were puzzled. 

“He's had bad news!” said Sam, unex- 
pectedly, at their elbow. They turned 
quickly. “It's his daughter. Didn't you 
know?” 

“How could we know? No one ever told 
us. I didn't know he had a daughter!” 

“That's what all this has been for!” Sam 
280 


PIRATE’S GOLD 


waved his hand vaguely — they could just 
see it in the darkness. ‘‘She had a fall. 
Hurt her back. The doc said she must go to 
a hospital in Baltimore. Said he couldn’t 
help her. Briggs — ^he didn’t have money. 
So we started to get it — quick. Now Ben 
Sheel — he says she’s dead.” 

Neither Fred nor Alan could think of any- 
thing to say. Low voices came from the gal- 
ley. Sam moved off and engaged Bart in 
low-toned conversation. Alan and Fred tip- 
toed aft, and peeked into the galley door. 
Sitting on the box, his head in his hands, 
the slow tears dropping from his eyes, was 
Cap’n Briggs — Cap’n Briggs the pirate, the 
ruffian, the all-but-murderer, the man with- 
out a heart. A roughly dressed young fellow, 
twisting his hat uncomfortably in his large 
hands, stood by. They saw him put out a 
hand tentatively. “Don’t ye — don’t ye — ” 
they heard him say. “She didn’t suffer none 
— she said ter tell ye — ” 

281 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


Alan and Fred stole away, as by one im- 
pulse. They had no right to hear. What- 
ever else Cap'n Briggs might be, and what- 
ever his offenses against them, he was now 
but a man in grief. What they had heard 
and seen explained much - — the constant 
hurry, the hard work, the captain’s sudden 
changes of humor, his passionate anger at 
anything which interrupted the cruise which 
was to send his injured daughter to the hos- 
pital. 

‘"Oh, Fred,” cried Alan, ‘"that explains why 
Captain Briggs hated to give up any oysters 
to Billy Peck. He was planning to sell them 
all as quickly as he could to get money for 
his sick daughter. I don’t see yet how those 
few oysters would make any difference but 
it shows you oughtn’t to judge a man until 
you know every reason that’s moving him to 
do what he does. I though it was just simple 
meanness and cruelty and it wasn’t.” 

''Yes,” agreed Fred soberly, "it explains a 
282 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


lot. Who would have thought old Briggs had 
a heart in him?*’ 

As the boys stole away, a dreadful cry 
arose from the forecastle — a cry which, had 
they not expected it, would have frozen the 
very blood within their veins. Alan jumped, 
as it was. But both boys were alert, and as 
Sam and Bart ran from the rail, barely vis- 
ible in the darkness, toward the nimbus of 
light which showed the forecastle opening, 
Fred and Alan gained their places. To find 
the rope tied to the rail was but an instant’s 
work. Fred went first, as prearranged, 
since, if Alan saw he was to be captured, he 
could jump over and swim for it, while Fred 
rowed the boat. But the strange cry, re- 
peated once more, and confused murmurings 
from the forecastle told of the two men, both 
engaged. Alan slid down the rope almost 
on top of Fred’s hands, and had his knife 
out and the rope cut in a second more. He 
gave a mighty shove at the Wasp’s side — and 
283 


.1 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


the little rowboat, flat bottomed, but little 
more than a light scow, drifted slowly but 
surely away. 

It was a curious sight to both boys — ^the 
Wasp from without. To both she looked 
oddly small. She appeared for only a few 
seconds, a black specter of a schooner against 
a dark sky — ^then the darkness swallowed 
her, all except the single light twinkling half- 
way up her fore rigging. 

“Row — row — why don’t you row?” whis- 
pered Alan, low. He remembered again how 
sound carries over water and listened with 
all his ears to note if he was heard. 

“No!” came the cautious answer. “They 
will know the minute they hear those locks 
— we must paddle !” 

He passed an oar to Alan. As if the boat 
had been a canoe, the two boys dipped their 
heavy oars overboard, and very cautiously 
very slowly, propelled her ahead. It was slow 
work. But it was sure. Save for the quiet 
284 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


dripping of the drops from the blades as 
they raised them, and the sloppety-slop of 
the water under the ‘"bows” of the blunt- 
ended flat-bottomed boat, there was not a 
sound of their making. They could hear 
sounds from the Wasp — the quiet murmur- 
ings of voices — Alan fancied he could inter- 
pret them as grief stricken but Fred smiled 
at the notion. 

‘‘More likely trying to decide what’s the 
matter with Billy Peck. I told you he never 
took his eyes off you ! Think of that — this--* 
being in his mind all that time !” 

*T can’t realize it! We have really got 
away! No more cooking, no more dish- 
washing, no more tonging, no more man 
driving — 

“No more danger!” interrupted Fred, but 
still very low, “no more playing with ele- 
mental tempers — no more flirting with vio- 
lence !” 

“I can’t realize it — I can’t make it seem 
285 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


real!” Alan was so happy he was almost 
incoherent. ‘T can’t — ” 

A shout floated over the water. The Wasp 
was three hundred yards astern now, but 
the shout was perfectly plain. It was a 
roar of anger, command, a threat. Other 
voices joined it — the quiet water rang with 
a pandemonium of calls, stern commands and 
adjurations. 

‘‘Hey, you Mac — Fred — come back ! We’ll 
catch you and when we catch you — ^you stole 
a boat! We’ll fix you — you — !” But it was 
from Sam and Bart, not Cap’n Briggs, that 
the calls came. 

“Ship the oars !” commanded Fred briefly. 
“No use hiding now!” 

Alan passed his oar back obediently. 

“But won’t they be able to catch us, if 
we let them know our whereabouts with the 
oarlocks?” 

“They won’t be able to hear us for their 
own noise. And I doubt they know* which 
286 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


way to pull. We can’t see them, why should 
they see us?” 

The shouts on the Wasp continued. There 
was a rattling of a chain and much calling 
and running to and fro. But if the heavier 
tender ever left the Wasp^s side to hunt for 
the little boat in the several square miles of 
pitch dark water the boys had hidden upon, 
they never knew it. Fred pulled steadily to- 
ward the shore — the shore he was only able 
to approximate as to position by the occa- 
sional star which he could see in the scudding 
clouds, and a dim point of light that showed 
intermittently through what the boys knew 
must be trees. 

‘'What will we do when we land ? How do 
we get to camp ?” 

Alan was perfectly willing now to admit 
Fred as leader and captain — ^he thought with 
a shamed blush, invisible in the darkness, 
of the last time they had been together in a 
small boat and of the puerile quarrel they 
287 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


had had — a quarrel he remembered per- 
fectly he had started. But he had not un- 
derstood Fred then — Fred, the silent, the 
dictatorial, the officious, the uncouth, per- 
haps, but Fred, the wise, the patient and the 
virile, Fred, the protector, the comforter and 
Fred, the uncomplaining. 

‘‘Beach her — and walk the shore line. 
Think you can walk ten miles, Mac?” 

It was typical of their new relations that 
the nickname to which he so objected, which 
had so constantly been used by Captain 
Briggs, came to his ears as a caress. 

“I could walk to Baltimore, if I had the 
chance!” laughed Alan. “Fancy having a 
chance to walk again! Suffering cats! But 
I'm glad to be away from the Waspr 

“I never want to see her or her crew 
again !” added Fred vigorously, “except when 
they stand in the dock and I testify against 
them.” 

“Yes,” agreed Alan but there was no en- 
288 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


thusiasm in his voice. Then, ‘'Did you see 
Cap’n Briggs — crying?” 

‘T didn’t think he had a heart,” said Fred 
soberly. “I’m sorry his daughter died.” 

“I’m wondering — ” Alan didn’t finish. 

But Fred caught the thought. “Whether 
he just shanghaied us because he had to 
pirate oysters in a hurry to make money to 
take his daughter to Baltimore?” 

“That’s it.” 

“I don’t see as that’s any excuse! Men 
don’t injure other men just because they are 
in difficulties! He had no right — ” This 
time it was Fred’s voice which trailed off 
into nothingness and lacked enthusiasm. 

Alan made no comment. He fingered the 
little roll of film in his inside pocket. Once 
he drew it forth and held it tightly clasped 
in his hands. But the hand was stretched 
out over the water. Then, with a little sigh, 
he put it back. At almost the same moment, 
there was a grating sound and the white 
289 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


shore line loomed at them out of the dark- 
ness. Fred pulled once or twice strongly, 
then they stepped out into' the cool water, 
and heaved the little boat way up above the 
high tidemark of sea weed on the beach. 

’TisnT ours !” said Fred. ‘‘No use losing 
it for him!” 

“Right I” assented Alan. “Now, let's hike, 
before they come after us.” 

They stopped and listened, carefully. But 
there was no sound from the water, no hint 
of life aboard the invisible Wasp, from which 
even the gleaming rigging light was gone. 

Fred sighed a sigh of relief. “I begin to 
feel sure, now,” he said. 

There was little further talking. Walking 
was unaccustomed work to both boys. And 
it was night and dark and there were drift- 
wood and shells, old piles and other obstruc- 
tions on the beach. They trudged sturdily 
ahead, weariness forgotten. For were they 
not homeward bound? Was not the survey 
290 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


camp just around the headland? What were 
ten or even fifteen miles? 

‘"But suppose the camp has been moved?” 
Alan voiced the fear which had possessed him 
for the last few minutes. ‘‘Suppose we have 
to walk not ten or fifteen miles, but fifty or a 
hundred?” 

“What’s the use of supposing anything 
of the kind?” responded Fred. “They had 
work laid out enough for a month and I count 
it the seventeenth of September. Our disap- 
pearing must have interrupted the work con- 
siderably. They must have spent some time 
hunting for traces of us. Maybe they sent 
for other boys to take our places. All that 
would delay them. There’s no reason why we 
should think that the camp has been moved.” 

“Well, but suppose it is !” insisted Alan. 

“Well, then all we’ll have to do is to walk 
from where the camp was back to town. It’s 
twelve miles, but what’s twelve miles?” 

“Nothing,” Alan agreed as heartily as he 
291 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


could, but he thought twelve miles on top of 
ten or fifteen to the camp was a pretty good 
night’s work! He was tired already, more 
from excitement than from physical weari- 
ness, and was not philosopher enough to 
know that the sudden cessation of the Tong 
strain they had been under was having its 
effect upon nerves and muscles as well as 
upon his mind. 

But he tramped sturdily along beside his 
stronger comrade, striving to show in neither 
appearance nor in the rapidity of his walking 
anything of the tired legs which wabbled so 
beneath him. Had it not been for the hope 
which inspired him and the feeling that this 
time the escape was not to end in recapture, 
Alan could not have stood the strain as well 
as he did. Moreover, there was a little feel- 
ing of pride in his heart that he, the city lad, 
untrained to heavy outdoor work and unused 
to roughing it, was keeping step and step 
with his heartier comrade. But he was very 
292 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


glad to hear Fred say at the end of a two- 
hour tramp : 

‘"No use killing ourselves, let's rest a 
while." 

“Suffering cats!” cried Alan, “I thought 
you'd never stop I” 

“Why didn't you yelp then? I'm sorry! 
I didn't know you were tired !” 

There was real concern in Fred's voice. 

Alan smiled happily in the darkness. 

“I didn't like to quit on you!” he said 
softly. 

Fred sat down beside him, and laid a hand 
on his knee. “You are not the quitting 
kind !” he stated emphatically. “It's all 
over now, but the shouting — and the wel- 
come home. But before we get home, I've 
something to say. I want — ” 

“Please don't!” Alan was suddenly shy 
and confused. 

“Don't what? Of course I'll say it! I 
started out thinking you a conceited city 
293 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


sissy, all good clothes and mincing ways and 
bluff. You’re quite some fellow, Alan Mac. 
It took nerve to stand up to Billy Peck. It 
took courage to go after him, and genuine 
decency to take care of him. I misread you, 
I’m sorry — I ask your pardon.” 

Alan stood up. His face was white in the 
darkness and there was a catch in his breath. 

‘^Oh,” he cried, low, '‘oh, you’re not the 
only one ! I thought you opinionated, a coun- 
try bumpkin, narrow, without refinement, a 
chap conceited beyond words. I find you 
have judgment, and the best kind of courage. 
I’d have been killed long ago by Billy Peck or 
Briggs if it hadn’t been for you! You kept 
up the courage you praise so highly and — and 
I couldn’t have stood it without you. I ask 
your pardon, too, and — and there’s my 
hand.” 

Very soberly Fred stood up. Under the 
scudding clouds and the lowering sky, in the 
faint small starlight, they shook hands, hard. 

294 


PIRATE’S GOLD 


Then, finding sentiment an extremely awk- 
ward possession even in the dark, Fred gave 
a little jerk to his hand and pulled Alan 
along. 

"‘Come along, you Mac, you ! Think I want 
to stay here all night?” 

And Alan playing his part, gave Fred a 
shove and answered, "‘Go on yourself! Who 
proposed this rest, anyway? I didn’t want 
to stop!” 

That was all, but it represented something 
very real to both boys, and neither was to 
forget for many years the quick confession, 
the open apologies and the hand-clasp under 
the stars. But they never mentioned it 
again. 

They had little breath for talking while 
they tramped. Sometimes in the water, 
sometimes through mud, sometimes on a 
hard beach, now over a bank, again a short- 
cut through trees, they trudged on toward 
the distant camp, tired, but not knowing it, 
295 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


aching, but not caring, kept up by excitement, 
by happiness at escape and joy at the some- 
thing each was cherishing in his heart. 

Alan was about to give in and suggest a 
rest, though much he hated it, when Fred 
stopped and held up his hand. 

‘^Look he cried. ‘‘Oh, Alan— Zoo A;. 

Alan looked. Shadowy, tall, spectral, al- 
most monstrous, in front of him rose a 
ghastly skeleton of spars and mast — a trian- 
gular skeleton — such a skeleton as stirred 
dim chords of memory and set them twang- 
ing. 

“It is — what is — it's a signair cried Alan, 
suddenly placing it. A little thrill in his 
spine chased itself up to his brain, where it 
exploded, a little bomb of happiness. 

“It's the Big Bend signal!** cried Fred 
scornfully. “I put it up — I ought to know! 
Camp is three hundred yards away!" 

Rest? Who thought of resting? Not 
Alan! As if just from bed and a long rest, 
296 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


he strode after Fred. Fred set a quick pace. 
Alan kept up. Fred began to jog, a trot. 
Alan took up the step. Now he could recog- 
nize things — a familiar tree — ^the wood-pile 
— a small boat tied to a stake — the little 
wharf — the tents. They were back again, 
at last ! The adventure was ended, they were 
unwilling pirates no longer! 

JTiere was a simultaneous yell from two 
eager young throats, “Captain Stamford! 
Boyden — Gedder — Pete ! Marlow — Finch — 
Hey, sleepy heads! Get up — prodigals re- 
turned — Hi — ^yi !” 

They made a tremendous racket. There 
was a movement in the tents before them. 
Protests were heard. Then, one after the 
other, sleepy-headed boys and one anxious- 
eyed man crawled out, to stand half dressed, 
wondering who could be making such a 
racket. But they didn’t wonder long. Sud- 
denly shy, Fred and Alan advanced decor- 
ously enough. 


297 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


‘‘Good evening, Captain Stamford !” stam- 
mered Fred. “We — ^we came back !” 

Captain Stamford gave one amazed cry — 
then with a boy under each arm, he began 
to execute a solemn sort of war-dance, and 
his yell — he was not much more than a boy 
himself — was louder than any Fred or Alan 
could have made! 

Some one lit a lantern. The boys gathered 
around, all talking at once. “We found the 
boat — read the cuts — ^the police boat been 
searching everywhere — where you been — 
how did you get — ^tell us quick-^” It was 
pandemonium. 

Sleepy Pete, rubbing his eyes, lit a great 
bonfire. Captain Stamford sent the boys 
scampering for their clothes. Then he 
dressed himself. And there about the mid- 
night camp-fire, by the side of the water 
which had provided them with so strange an 
experience, Fred and Alan told their tale — a 
tale in which each interrupted the other 
298 


i 



About the midnight camp-fire Fred and Alan told their tale 








PIRATE^S GOLD 


often, always to tell something to the other’s 
credit. 

“That was Fred’s doings — he supplied the 
brains,” would be from Alan. 

“Alan did that — I hadn’t anything to do 
with it. He was the one,” Fred would cut in. 

“I’d have been killed two or three times 
over,” Alan said soberly, quite failing to 
understand the laugh the statement raised, 
“if it hadn’t been for Fred. He supplied the 
judgment for the expedition.” 

“I don’t know anything about that,” re- 
sponded Fred, “but I do know that if it hadn’t 
been for Alan, there would have been one 
dead member of the party, and that’s Billy 
Peck. Let me tell you what he — ” And in 
spite of Alan’s protests Fred rehearsed again 
the story of the rescue of his tormentor and 
how he had been shamed into rendering the 
medical assistance which had probably saved 
Billy Peck’s life. 

“That’s all very well,” Alan interrupted. 

299 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


“Anybody would have gone overboard if they 
could swim, but listen to this ! Here’s a boy 
that’s more or less scared of the water just 
because he can’t swim. But when we tried to 
make our escape by paddling with only two 
tong handles to hold us up, did he show he 
was scared? Not a bit of it! He did what I 
told him and paddled away in water a mile 
deep for all I know, as unconcernedly as he’s 
talking to you now. It took a heap more 
nerve than for me to go overboard after 
Billy Peck.” 

“Yes, it did — not!” answered Fred vigor- 
ously. “Why, Captain Stamford, if it hadn’t 
been for the way Alan encouraged me in the 
water, I’d been too scared to hold on to those 
handles ! I’d have been at the bottom.” 

“It seems to me,” interrupted Captain 
Stamford, “I have some recollection of two 
boys who rather disliked each other’s society. 
It would seem from what you say that you’ve 
changed to a mutual admiration society!” 

300 


PIRATE^S GOLD 


He spoke quizzically but neither Fred nor 
Alan could answer him in kind. Looking 
from one eager, if sober, face to the other 
and reading in both pairs of eyes a very real 
friendship. Captain Stamford was satisfied 
that, disagreeable and dangerous as the en- 
forced piracy had been, it had resulted in 
something of permanent value to both. 

He had little time, however, for thinking 
such comforting thoughts. All of the boys 
had eager questions to ask and as the an- 
swers often involved the telling at some 
length of incidents and happenings of the 
difficult days just passed and as the circle 
rapidly developed a disposition to talk all at 
once, the tale of adventure strung out to some 
length. 

But the story seemed short enough to the 
absorbed circle. In their turn they told of 
the finding of their deserted boat, of the 
ready reading of the cuts in the gunwale, 
of the effort made by the police boat to lo- 
301 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


cate the craft that had stolen them away. 
They told of the certainty they felt of locat- 
ing them almost any day, and then came the 
piece of news at which Fred and Alan jumped 
to their feet with a ringing cheer. 

“We haven^t told your parents — ^neither 
family!” said Captain Stamford. “We felt 
confident we would locate you — and we knew 
you were not drowned. So what was the 
use of worrying them? But we were going 
to — if you were not found by the end of this 
week.” 

“Now we can tell ’em! And it’s some 
tale!” cried Alan. “But — ^but do you know, 
now it’s over, I’m glad of it? It’s been a 
great experience!” 

“And we haven’t suffered any loss of health 
or life or limb,” put in Fred, medical train- ‘ 
ing to the front. 

“And we’ve brought back a whole lot — ” 
Alan stopped, embarrassed. 

Captain Stamford looked quickly at each 
302 


PIRATE’S GOLD 

boy in turn. He smiled at them in compre- 
hension. takes strange things like that 
to make strong bonds !” he said. 

‘‘Now — about prosecuting these men. 
You had your camera — did you get any 
evidence that will be useful? The police tell 
me that it’s hard to get a conviction because 
of the way those crews stand together.” 

Alan looked at Fred — Fred looked at Alan. 
In the minds of both were many things, 
working. They had not been harmed. 
They had not suffered more than they could 
stand. Cap’n Briggs — incomprehensible 
Cap’n Briggs — had at least a heart some- 
where — and a grief which excused much. 
And Billy Peck — were they not “quittings” 
with Billy Peck without putting him in jail? 

“We had the camera!” said Fred slowly. 
“But Cap’n Briggs threw it and Alan over- 
board.” It was not for him to decide for 
them both. But Alan caught the meaning in 
the carefully chosen words. 

303 


PIRATES BY FORCE 


*Tes — I’ll have to get Dad to get me 
another. And so” — and his hand opened 
with a careless gesture as he threw a piece 
of wood on the fire — ‘T haven’t a single pic- 
ture left — which could be used as evidence.” 

‘1 don’t care,” and Fred smiled in under- 
standing. “We’ve learned not to fight, any- 
way, haven’t we, Alan?” 

“We’ve learned more than that!” agreed 
Alan quietly. The animosity, the revengeful 
thoughts, the desire for stern justice on those 
who had outraged them both — Alan felt these 
no more. The experience was over — ^but it 
had left him with a friend. 

In the heart of the fire something blazed 
up, spluttered with a yellow fiame and sub- 
sided. 

It might have been a pine knot. It might 
have been a roll of films. 


THE END 




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